Saviour
by omgitsdanniie
Summary: A near fatal car accident leaves Sam with a second chance at life, Will he use it wisely or make the same mistakes again? AU Samcedes.
1. Chapter 1

_Lets try this again shall we..?_

**AN**: Here's another AU for you guys! This one has more Glee characters in it than Ever After with some slight changes to their ages and stuff like that you'll see I hope you guys enjoy it. (:

Basically the New Directions are in their early to mid 20's. All except Matt (you'll find out why as you read.) I've made Sam's little brother Stevie older as well, a few years younger than Sam, early 20's ish.

It'll all make sense as you read but those are the main changes for this chapter if you have a question just ask in a review and I will gladly answer. (:

Enjoy!

* * *

_ Chapter one._

_xox_

He held the phone in one hand as he stirred the wheel with the other. His finger dialed the first number then paused. Should he call? What had he got to lose? If she slammed the phone on him, he would still be in his car, driving home, with only his ego to cure. So he pressed on the rest of the remaining digits.

"Umm… Hi. Santana? It's me, Sam. I just wanted to talk to you. Quinn? Umm. We're not together at the moment. No. I was just wondering…if maybe…coffee, with me? Don't drink coffee? I forgot. What about tea?"

Sam drummed his left hand at the steering wheel. For some reason he felt giddy while talking to Santana on his cell phone. He should feel guilty for cheating on his fiancée, Quinn Fabray. But… they're on a break. So that would not be considered cheating, would it?

He laughed a nervous laugh. Santana was not buying his intention of just wanting to drink coffee or tea with her. Knowing Sam, the man wanted something more. He was a playboy after all.

"No. I haven't even talked to her for a while now," he gritted his teeth. It was partly true. It had been exactly two hours and twenty-two minutes since he last talked to Quinn. He told her he wanted to take a break from their relationship. He wanted to taste the feel of being a bachelor once again. Then why was he calling his ex-girlfriend, Santana Lopez, and asking her for a date? Who knew? Sam shrugged.

* * *

_Sobs filled her room. She had been crying for hours – since the last phone call from him. That man! Didn't even have the guts to tell her in person. Yet she loved him with all her heart. She would give him everything. But she was angry; and seething mad. He should not hurt her like this, if he really loved her as he had dozens of times said to her. Then why?_

_"I wish Sam would just die!" Quinn shouted out of frustration._

* * *

He was so engrossed with his phone conversation that he barely took notice of the flashing red light. The atmosphere was dark and damp due to the recent rain. If he were sensitive to such things, he would have taken it as an omen. Something wrong was bound to happen.

And it did.

Within seconds, bright flash of lights slowly registered to his sight. The loud honking of the vehicle filtered his ears in slow motion. Yet it happened too fast he was unable to react. His only reaction was to drop the cell phone on his lap. His eyes widened. In an instant his whole lifetime flashed before him. He was going to die; he knew it. This was the end. There was no time to repent for his sins.

An oil truck struck the right side of a dark blue car in an instant, throwing the car off the small cliff, tumbling down. Whoever was inside the vehicle would have slow percentage of survival.

* * *

Mary Evans nearly dropped the phone from her grasp. She tried to remain calm despite the heart-ripping news she had just received. Tears quickly formed in her eyes. _My God, let my Sammy be okay…_but she could not convince herself.

"Dwight!" she called, trying her hardest to control her voice from faltering. "Dwight. Dwight!" she called once more, frustration clearly noted in her tone. Her husband appeared, immediately realizing something was wrong with his wife. Mary finally broke into hysterics. "Police on phone… Sam… car…unconscious… Lima Hospital," she said between wailings. She fell on her knees, sobbing hard.

Dwight's features hardened, but someone must stay strong. He helped his wife get up on her knees, holding her firmly to stop her violent shaking. "Let's go," he said in an extremely composed tone. The parents immediately drove to the said hospital, uncaring if they were both in their sleeping garments. Their oldest son's life was more important than their disheveled appearance.

They got to the hospital as soon as possible. They were informed Sam was still on the E.R. One of the nurses had the heart and mind to point to his location, the trauma room. Both parents caught sight of their son's blonde hair tainted with bloodstains. His face was bloodied, as well as his left arm. Mary clutched onto her husband. Sam had always been a strong young man, even in his childhood. She was not prepared for the sight she saw. "He seemed so weak…" she whispered in a coarse voice.

"Mom, Dad," a voice called to them. The couple turned to see their youngest son approached them, a rare worried look of expression on his face. "A maid informed me of Sam's accident. How is he?"

"We don't know yet, Stevie," was the only response he got. Stevie gave a slight nod, eyes narrowing as he set eyes on his older brother's almost battered body. He and Sam were not _the_ best of friends but it did not mean the brothers did not care for each other. Stevie clenched his fists. "He will get through this…" he muttered loud enough for his parents to hear.

* * *

A young woman rushed in the crowded hospital, panic-stricken. She received a call at work that her younger brother fainted at home and was rushed to the hospital by an ambulance. She clutched her right chest as she approached the hospital counter to inquire.

"I'm the sister of Matt Jones. He was rushed here an hour ago?" she asked a nurse, a knot forming in her throat.

"Wait here, ma'am. I'll call the doctor for you," the nurse told her.

Tears immediately formed in her eyes. She did not like the sound of it. If everything was fine, the nurse could have simply told her. She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. She could not lose Matt. He was her only family now; losing him would be like losing the will to continue living. The nurse came back, a soft smile on her face.

"Ms. Jones? The doctor will see you in a few minutes. No need to worry. Matt is just resting. You'll be able to see him after you talk to Dr. Schuester. Please follow me," the nurse led her to a small waiting room inside the E.R. "Wait here, the doctor will be out in a moment."

Mercedes took a seat in hesitation. She glanced towards a group of three people. Her eyes first shifted to the couple sitting. The woman was sobbing softly against, presumably, her husband's chest. A tall man with blonde hair was standing, leaning against the wall; his face bent low. The look on their faces was all gloomy. Mercedes closed her eyes, her throat tightening again. She should prepare herself for the worst; but was unable to do so. Matt was her only source of inspiration in life. Everything about her little brother was about hope. She, instead, hoped for the best.

The said Dr. Schuester appeared after fifteen minutes of wait. Everybody immediately approached the doctor. He turned first to the small family.

"Mr. Evans, Mrs. Evans, your son is stable now. The bone in his left arm was fractured, but the x-rays showed it could be easily healed. He hit his head rather too hard. As a result, he is still in a coma. No surgery is needed but he will be under careful observation at the ICU. Until he is conscious, there are still many things that can't be deduced. We'll just have to wait and see. You all should rest," he gave them a slight nod before turning to Mercedes. "Ms. Jones? I'm Dr. Schuester. I was the one who examined your brother," he led Mercedes aside, his serious tone inevitable. "You're brother is placed at the ICU as well. There were just not enough white cells produced in your brother's body right now. Chemotherapy is the logical choice but… it could not guarantee recovery." Mercedes did not miss the sad note in the doctor's statement.

She nodded and gave the doctor a smile. "I know, doctor. I'm aware of it." There was no need for the doctor to state it. Leukemia was the type PF disease hard to cure. Surviving leukemia was rare; and Mercedes knew his brother's chances. "Can I see him now, doctor?"

"Follow me, then," Dr. Schuester led her out of the room. Before Mercedes stepped out, she took a quick glance at the three people who was still there. She gave the woman, the mother, a hopeful smile, as if giving her the hope she had minutes ago. The woman replied with a small smile too.

* * *

**AN**: Chapter 1 done. I hope you guys liked it so far tell me what you think! =]


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter two._

_xox_

Mercedes slowly pedaled her way to her lonely house. She was tired and depressed; but a small smile tugged on her lips as she caught a familiar sight. She carefully placed her bicycle on the garage's sidewall; it was her means of transportation. She made her way towards the person that brightened her somewhat gloomy night.

"Hey Kurt," she greeted as she sat next to him by the front porch. She sighed out loud, feeling calmed by his mere presence. "How you doin'?"

He eyed her. He had known Mercedes since they were little kids, barely out of their diaper. He knew perfectly well the emotions playing in her eyes at the moment. "The real question is how you are doing?"

"Not fine. The doctor implied that chemotherapy would just prolong Matt's life, not cure him. Knowing my brother, he wouldn't consent. He told me once he'd rather go through the suffering in the house, rather a suffering in the hospital," she leaned her head on her best friend's shoulders. Right now, Kurt was the only comforting presence in her life. "Kurt, I'm scared. I don't want to lose Matt. Not just yet…" she trailed off, a sob rising to her throat.

Kurt wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. "You will not lose Matt, Mercedes. Don't give up just yet. The Lord still has plans for your brother," he drew Mercedes closer to him. He flicked the cigarette on his other hand, as if trying to hide it from her. "Have you eaten? There's some leftover pizza at home. C'mon," he said.

"Thanks Kurt but I'm really tired; and it's already late. I think I'll just go to sleep," she shook her head. Then, Mercedes' eyes narrowed as the cigarette smoke filtered her nose. She snatched the stick from Kurt just when he was about to take a puff on it. "How many times have I told you to stop this habit? This can cause lung cancer, you know. I'll hate you forever if I lose you too," she scolded him, half-joking, half-serious.

The man raised both his arms. "Fine, fine, Mercedes. I'll stop," he winked. Mercedes glared at him, aware he would never get out of the habit. She stood up from where she sat.

"Well, goodnight Kurt. Sorry to leave you now but I'm really tired," she gave him a weak smile before disappearing inside the house.

Kurt sighed as the front door closed. His heart ached for Mercedes. He could not apprehend why such tragic moments were inflicted on the young woman. She was orphaned at the age of eighteen, with a younger brother to take care of. Now, at the age of twenty-four, her one and only family would be soon taken away from her. Still, Kurt had faith God had plans for the young woman. Whatever that may be, he would be there to take care of her.

He lit another cigarette before walking back home. Smoking was his _guilty pleasure_.

* * *

Mercedes awoke the next morning with a heavy heart. Matt was not in his room; and she felt empty. This is how it would feel if he's gone… She immediately banished the thought. She walked towards the window, staring up at the cloudless, bright blue sky. The sun was already high up, its golden rays somehow easing the heavy load in her chest. She could somehow see the positive in the day: she would be able to see Matt at the hospital. Mercedes quickly took a shower, made tea and a toast, and pedaled her way to the Lima Hospital.

Her brother was transferred to the ICU the previous night after her brief visit. Matt was awake when she entered his room. A smile was visible on his boyish face the moment he laid eyes on his sister. "Hey," the twelve-year old boy greeted. He flinched a little as he felt pain shot through his inside, yet his smile never faded. "How was your morning?"

Mercedes beamed at her brother's enthusiasm. "It was fine, Matt. How are you feeling?"

"Swell. No need to worry. The doctor said I could go home in a week or so, depending on my recovery. I'd rather go home now, you know. There's no TV here!" he gave a slight pout, amusing his sister. Matt, though only twelve was very aware of his health. He knew how much heartache his condition had caused his older sister. All he could do was insist he was okay, and joke around to make Mercedes smile. "Did you bring me a newspaper?" he asked.

Mercedes handed him the Sports and Comics section, the only two things Matt preferred to read. "Your team lost 21-15, just so you know," she snickered, messing her kid-brother's hair, who was giving her a glare for divulging information before he could read it. Mercedes spent about an hour with Matt before heading out to work again. She left just after he drifted off to sleep. Once more, sadness loomed over her.

Just as she was making her way out of the ICU, the door to Matt's neighboring room was widely opened. A nurse was carefully checking a heavily bandaged man. Curiosity got the better of Mercedes as she leaned forward, noticing the patient's blonde hair. The nurse looked at her. "I'm about done, ma'am. You can now come in," the nurse said.

Mercedes knew the nurse misunderstood, thinking she was there to visit the bandaged man. Yet Mercedes nodded her head and stepped inside the room. The nurse gave her one last smile before leaving, closing the door behind her. Mercedes frowned at herself. What was she to do inside the room? She bit her lip as she peered at the man on the bed. Her eyes softened as she gazed at his serene face. Mercedes walked a little closer to the bedside to get a better view of the unconscious man.

"You're beautiful," Mercedes heard herself murmur. Her lips curved into a smile as she sat down at the side of his bed. She traced the features of his face. Somehow she felt magnetized. Worried he would wake up any moment; she retreated her fingers and stood up. "You must be the man who had a car accident from last night. You're in a coma, right?" she talked to him. "Your parents are pretty worried about you. Your mom, at least that's who I think she is, was crying so much. My heart goes out to her."

Mercedes grabbed the chair and dragged it to his bedside. "I'll just talk to you for a few minutes. I'm not expected at work till eleven anyway. You don't mind, right? I mean, I'm not really a talker, but I could use a little conversation once in a while. You see, the room next to yours is where my brother is. He's real sick. He assures me he's fine, but I know he isn't. Yet, I won't give up. He's the only family I got, and I can't lose him. Unlike you…" Mercedes paused, analyzing the situation. She felt funny and foolish for talking to a man in a coma. It was a ridiculous action but somehow she felt good to be able to release her deep thoughts. This man would be her listener.

Mercedes stood up from the chair. She carefully took the limp hand and clasped it with her own. "I'll be your friend, even if by the time you wake up, we won't see each other. But you'll be my friend and I will always pray for your recovery. Promise!"

She said her goodbye and quietly went out of his room, vowing to come back and talk to him the next day. This course of action became routine for Mercedes for the next few days. She would sneak in and out of his room every once a while, when no one was around to see her. It was a _guilty pleasure_ for the young woman.

Matt once commented about how his sister seemed a little excitable every visit. Mercedes started to smile a lot, as if it was the most natural thing for her to do. The little brother was afraid his illness was making a crazy person out of his older sister. Instead of being scared for himself, Matt was more afraid for his sister's sake. He had questioned her once if everything was fine. Mercedes answered in a tone full of delight and amusement. His sister was merely happy.

* * *

Stevie stared at his unmoving brother, with only the constant rise and fall of his chest as a sign of normal breathing. How long had he been standing there by Sam's side? Minutes, an hour maybe?

It was universal truth that one would find the significance of a person only if you lost them; and Sam was nearly lost.

The younger of the two never, even once, proclaimed his love for his brother. He felt it unmanly; and would ruin his reputation. Yet for the past few days, Stevie could only wish he had at least shown how he truly cared for Sam.

It had been five days since the accident, since Sam was last conscious. The doctors said no need to worry, but the whole Evans family was on the verge of going crazy just waiting. Mary, the mother, would stay by his son's side if possible; but there were also commitments to attend to, and hospital regulations to follow. Stevie this time volunteered to be the one to visit Sam, and possibly the first person he would set eyes on. For Stevie, that would be his way of showing his care for the younger brother.

The doorknob was slowly turning, and the door was quietly opened. A young woman peered in, eyes widening as she gazed at Stevie. She gasped momentarily before gaining her composure. "Sorry, wrong room," she muttered under her breath before quickly closing the door behind her.

Stevie smirked at the closed door. His eyes went back to his little brother. "Still attracting women even in your unconscious state, Sam?" The older brother shook his head in amusement. The woman who was about to enter was no stranger to Stevie. He had seen her enter Sam's room before. Thinking she was someone his brother knew intimately, he waited till she left. The puzzling thing was when she left his room; she immediately proceeded to the next room and stayed there for hours. Stevie, being the caring brother that he was, inquired about the woman at the nurses' station. Turned out, she was the older sister of the young boy with leukemia. "Wonder what Quinn will say about this?" he raised a brow. Stevie closed his eyes, admitted to himself he missed the 'conscious' Sam.

He stared at his brother once more, a rare smile on his face. He could get used to this, he thought, like it was a _guilty pleasure_.

* * *

Rawr.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter three._

_xox_

Mercedes quietly crept to the room next door, making sure he had no visitors. She immediately beamed at the sight of the blonde-haired man she had grown accustomed to seeing. Her visits to him had become regular and religious. She approached him without the smile leaving her face.

"You have more color in you now," she commented as she brushed the hair out of his face. She had seen his day-to-day recovery and progress, noticing any significant change. "You've been here for almost two weeks, eleven days to be exact, just like my brother." Mercedes settled in a chair beside him as she began their daily 'conversation'. "Matt's doing fine and I'm so thankful and relieved. This afternoon he'll be transferred to the pediatrics. He'll be confined there for the night then he's back home. He's excited, you know."

She paused, her smile fading. "I guess we won't see each other anymore, huh? I mean, I don't think I can sneak in here anymore when my little brother's no longer here. Maybe I can pose as one of your friends. The thing is…" Mercedes pursed her lips. "The thing is, I don't know your name!"

She expelled a breath. She took his left hand and clasped it with her own. She folded each of his fingers so it will be entwined with her own.

"Promise you won't forget me, okay? I'll always pray for you, my friend. Though we'll never see each other anymore, I'll never forget you. You've been part of my life for this short period," Mercedes said sincerely.

Mercedes thought about what she said; and momentarily felt foolish. Yet she was aware how much comfort she found in this person's presence even though he never once uttered a word. She stood up from her chair to sit beside him on the bed.

"I guess this is goodbye now…" she gently pulled her hand from the clasp she formed but felt his grip tightened on hers. Mercedes' eyes widened, alarmed. She tried pulling her hand once more but his hand held on tightly. "Oh no…" she murmured, her heart rate beating faster. She turned her head to eye the door, hoping no one would come in.

* * *

_It was like journeying from dark to light, then light to dark, then dark to light once more. It was an endless dream. Occasionally he would hear voices, beckoning him to wake up. He tried but he was trapped. He knew those voices, his mother's and his father's, and surprisingly his brother's. All comforted him, but none more than a sweet voice from a stranger. At first he thought it was Quinn's, and then he figured it was Santana's. But it was different. It felt as if it gave him new hope._

_He was not sure how long had he been trapped inside the dream, or nightmare. All he knew that suddenly this stranger's voice was saying goodbye; and he did not want to let it go. He ran and ran, and it led him to a light. It was a means of exit and he took it._

Sam cracked open an eye. Bright light blinded him for a second, making him squint. Slowly, he opened both and registered an image sitting beside him. It was a woman he had never set gaze upon before. He sat himself up to have a better view of the stranger whom he felt a strange connection with.

Pain shot through his right side and he uttered a low grunt.

* * *

Mercedes turned around when she heard a soft grunt. Green eyes met her gaze. Mercedes panicked, forced her hand out of his grasp, and jumped from the bed. In this panic mode, she bumped into the nearby table, carelessly pulled off the plug of his oxygen and heart monitor.

He was gasping for air. The heart monitor was beeping, no longer detecting the heartbeat of the patient. The alarm was set off to summon the doctor and nurses. Mercedes ran out of the room, glad she was still able to slip off without being noticed. She closed the door in Matt's room with a heavy thud, as a doctor and a nurse rushed to the other room.

"Matt, if someone asks, tell them I was asleep here the whole time," she panted as she huddled next to her brother.

Matt was eyeing her sister curiously. "Are you alright? Did something happen outside?"

Mercedes cupped her brother's mouth with her hand. "Ssh. Don't be noisy. Let's pretend we're both asleep in here." She closed her eyes, thinking she had killed the man, a stranger she claimed her friend.

* * *

She was on edge when she got home, nearly snapping at Emma, an old family friend who took care of Mercedes when she was little and chose to stay with Mercedes and Matt when they were orphaned. Also, Mercedes was jumpy and somewhat paranoid. It was as if someone was after her.

Well, in Mercedes' mind, the police was after her. She did not mean to kill the man. She was alarmed and surprised to see him awake all of a sudden. She was not given the time to compose herself.

Mercedes stared at the mirror as she brushed her teeth. "I killed him…" she confessed to no one in particular. Suddenly, a sudden chill filled the room. Mercedes shuddered. She does not believe in ghosts, but what if his soul was off to find her for revenge? Then she heard a loud thud inside her room.

"Mercedes!"

"Ack!"

"Are you all right?"

Mercedes placed a hand on her chest to calm herself. "Ms. Emma, don't scare me like that."

"Well, I came to check up on you. You were a little tensed when you arrived. Did something happen to Matt?"

Mercedes shook her head, but looked around her small bathroom. She made sure the window was closed. "Matt's fine. You should go to sleep now, Ms. Emma. We'll be leaving early tomorrow for the hospital. It's Matt's last day, and he wanted to leave early."

Emma nodded, but still eyeing her curiously. "Good night then, Mercy." With that, she left Mercedes in all her paranoia.

Paranoia had always been dangerous. Right now, Mercedes was overtly being paranoid and it was not healthy. She turned on the television and it seemed all programs were either about murder or a ghost haunting.

Mercedes had never been afraid of such silly concepts; but at the moment she hid herself inside her blanket and did not make any move until she fell asleep. She. Was. That. Scared.

* * *

Mercedes woke up with a throbbing headache. She had a restless night; sleep arrived way too late. She was sure there were dark circles under her eyes. She showered and changed quickly, didn't even bother to look at herself in the mirror. She smelt bacon and eggs filtering from the kitchen, a sign Emma had prepared a big breakfast for Mercedes. But, she had no appetite for food.

Emma met her downstairs, eyebrows quirked in question. "Good morning. Have you gotten any sleep at all last night?"

Mercedes shook her head, but unwilling to give out information as to what the reason was. "I guess I'm excited for Matt's return."

Emma gave her a small smile. "Well then, breakfast is ready. Kurt called while you were still upstairs. He said he's ready to leave anytime you're ready."

Mercedes nodded and proceeded to the kitchen. She would just take a bite or two as to not make Emma fuss over her about eating breakfast and such; but the aroma of the food at the dining table just made Mercedes' stomach queasy. Still she managed to have three bites.

"Hey Mercedes!" Kurt called out. He allowed himself in from the back door to the kitchen. "Whoa, Emma made a lot for you," he began munching on some toast and bacons from Mercedes' plate. "You ready to go? Hey… you look sorta out of it today. As if you did something wrong. Did you kill someone?" he joked. A piece of toast went flying and hit Kurt on the face. "Geez, Mercy! I was just fooling around. Can't even take a joke," he complained, rubbing his cheek.

"Well, you shouldn't kid about me killing someone. It's not funny because it was just an accident!" she retorted, unaware she just gave her 'secret' away. Kurt was confused but chose to not make a comment about it. After all, his best friend looked like in a foul mood – and anyone who knew Mercedes in a foul mood chose to stay away. "Are you done eating? We should go. Matt is rather impatient."

"Well, I'm ready. My car's ready. I think Emma's ready. We're only waiting for you," he stood up, dusted his hands, and gave Mercedes a huge smile. It only earned him a scowl.

They arrived in the hospital thirty minutes after. If it weren't for Kurt's 'safe' driving ways, they would have been there in fifteen or twenty minutes. Mercedes' mood at this time had taken a huge swing. It turned from the grumpy, scowling attitude to the anxious, paranoid aspect. Kurt and Emma were questioning her mental state.

"Mercedes, I am your best friend. Tell me, are you pregnant?" he asked, amusement clearly playing on his eyes. Mercedes blushed furiously and hit Kurt on the arm.

"Well, for a pregnant woman, you still hit rather hard," he snickered. It only made him receive another punch.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop. But will you please knock off being in your foul mood? For crying out loud, Matt's going home and you're all moody."

That softened Mercedes' face. She should focus on the significance of the day, rather than divulging on the depressing event of yesterday.

"Okay, sorry about being moody," she muttered. As they passed the ICU section, Mercedes could not help but become curious.

She peeked through the door, only to see a young woman standing in front of his room. The young blonde was talking to Dr. Schuester. "You two go ahead. I'll just talk to Matt's doctor," she motioned for both Kurt and Emma to proceed to the pediatrics. When the two had gone, Mercedes walked closer to eavesdrop a little.

Before she even heard a single word passed between the doctor and the woman, Dr. Schuester noticed and approached her. "Ms. Jones? Can I help you?"

"Uh… Dr. Schuester, I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of my brother. Not many doctors have the patience for a twelve-year old boy."

Dr. Schuester smiled. "I'm only here to serve, but the gesture is well appreciated." The doctor bid Mercedes goodbye and left.

Mercedes turned her attention back to the other woman. She seemed distraught, tears welling in the woman's eyes. She walked out of the room, paused and looked at Mercedes for a brief moment. "I was too late. Didn't even get to see him," the woman said, more to herself than to Mercedes.

Mercedes gulped, the guilt biting hard at her.

* * *

**AN**: Mercedes the murderer lol. Review Time! (:


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four._

_xox_

"Don't tell me you're going to work?"

Mary furiously shook her head. Her son had just been recovering from a serious accident two months ago. "I'm not letting you leave this house, young man. You should just stay in bed."

"Mom, I think I'm getting worse every minute I spend at home. In fact, I think I should go back to my apartment," Sam complained. His oh-so protective mother had insisted Sam to do his recovering at home, rather than at his downtown apartment. It was not so bad, though. Sam once again was subjected to his mother's spoiling and pampering. Plus, he had free food, laundry, and electricity. Still, he wanted to have his independent moments back. "I'm really thankful though but… I need to go out."

Mary stepped forward, determined to stop him from leaving. "I don't care what you say. You're staying here inside the house until I believe you are ready to go out."

Sam raised his hands in surrender. There was no use arguing with his mother. He plopped himself on the couch, a pout on his face. He had been in the hospital for a month. When he was released, he was immediately taken to his parents' house, stayed inside his old room for another month. He was beginning to get bored. "I'm fine, you know, mom. I really am. I healed fast. You don't need to worry. Plus, I think they need me back at work." He tried convincing her, although he knew his mother would not budge.

"Let him go, Mary. He'd cause you more trouble in here," Dwight interjected, coming from the kitchen. "On one condition, Sam. You're not driving," he sat down on a nearby couch and resumed reading his newspaper.

"What? I'm not gonna take the bus nor a taxi. Those are too slow. C'mon, dad. I learned my lesson. I'm gonna drive carefully this time," Sam scratched his head. His parents were becoming more and more overprotective of him. "For heaven's sake, I'm twenty-seven years old!"

"I'll drive you." a voice offered.

All turned to look at Stevie leaning against the wall. Mary beamed at the request. Dwight nodded his head. Sam had a look of surprise.

"You'll drive me? Are you sure I'm the one who had an accident and was in a coma? Looks like Stevie here was the one who had amnesia."

Stevie's expression remained blank. He was used to his brother's sarcastic remarks. "Whenever you're ready," was all he said, before turning away.

Mary stood in front of her son, a cross look on her face. "Now be grateful your brother's here and was kind enough to offer you a ride. Or else I won't let you out. Or maybe you want ME to drive you instead?"

Sam jumped up from the couch. "Who said I didn't accept Stevie's offer?" he walked quickly towards the back door. He was not letting his mother drive him to work. That would not be good for his reputation! "Well, gotta go now mom, dad," he waved his hand as he made his way outside.

"Fasten your seat belt!" Mary shouted in reminder.

* * *

Sam stole a glance at his younger brother, a smirk playing across his face. Not many were aware of Sam's secret envy towards Stevie. To Sam, Stevie was always the stronger, more capable, responsible and more intelligent between the two of them. Sam did not understand why he and his brother didn't always get along. As a result, his defense mechanism was to be more sarcastic, more insulting and hateful towards Stevie.

"So Stevie, what hit you that you offer me a ride huh?" he snorted, playing with the radio.

Stevie brushed his fingers away before Sam destroyed his car's new sound system. "Be thankful and shut up instead."

"There's gotta be a hidden agenda in this. What you want, huh? What's in it for you?"

Stevie ignored Sam. It would do him no good if he admitted to his brother he was doing the deed out of the 'kindness' of his heart. Sam took the hint his brother would just continue ignoring him. He did as he was told, stayed quiet but a huge scowl painted on his face.

They were engulfed in silence once more. Both their workplaces were located downtown, about a forty-five-minute drive from their parents' house. The traffic at Hwy 401 was heavy and moving at a slower pace. The brothers would just have to endure being together a lot longer. Knowing Sam, he could not stay quiet for so long.

"How was mom when I had the accident?" he suddenly asked.

Stevie looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "She was devastated, to say the least. She never stopped crying even when the doctor told her you're stable."

Sam looked out the window. His jaw tightened as he recalled the minutes before he saw the truck coming his way. "I saw the truck coming, you know. It was like in slow-mo. I was stuck, almost frozen," he said in a serious tone. He had a dazed look in his eyes, as if he was telling his tale not to Stevie but to someone else. "I knew I was going to die." Stevie remained straight-faced on his seat. He was not used to his brother talking that way.

Sam blinked, realizing it was Stevie he was talking to. "But I'm alive, am I not?" he snorted out. He remained looking out the window to hide the real emotion playing on his face.

"You're given a second chance. Use it wisely," Stevie muttered and silence once more resumed. No one talked until they got off the highway and made their way to Sam's office. "I'll be back to pick you up," he said before Sam climbed out the car. Sam only nodded his head, unwilling to argue.

* * *

Everyone was surprised to see him. All knew of the accident the young executive was subjected to; no one expected him to be back so soon. But everyone was gracious and respectful still. Every corner of the office he would hear a 'welcome back, sir' or a 'good to see you, sir'. His secretary scrambled to meet him, a smile on her young face. "Good morning, sir," she said, taking his briefcase.

Sam responded with a nod and smile. He entered his office feeling as if he had been gone for ages. It was true that a near-death experience would give a person a new outlook in life. What is mine, then? He had been pondering that since the day he woke up from his coma.

He had been sitting in boredom at his desk for almost an hour, really not in the mood to do any work. Maybe he should have listened to his mother in staying home. "Sir," his secretary buzzed on his phone's intercom. "Someone is here to see you." Sam didn't feel like talking to someone for the moment. "It's Ms. Fabray, sir. She said it's important."

Sam was a little puzzled. "Show her in."

Sam immediately noticed tears forming in Quinn's hazel eyes. "I called you at home, no one answered. So I figured you were at your parents. Then your mom told me you went to work. How are you?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Sam approached her and motioned for her to sit down on the couch at the corner of his office room. "I'm fine. Still a little sore though," he answered.

Quinn nodded her head then threw her hands at Sam. "I'm so relieved you're okay. When I heard you got into an accident and were in a coma, I got so scared… scared that I'll lose you," she sobbed in his chest. "And then when I finally went to see you, I was too late. They already moved you to a different floor. By then, I lost courage to see you and left instead. Since then, I can't sleep without thinking of you. I never want to lose you. I love you so much."

Sam brought her closer to him. A part of him wanted to tell her there was no more chance for the two of them to reconcile. But as Stevie had said, he was given a second chance in life. In this second life, he had to straighten up things he had done wrong in the past. He closed his eyes.

"Don't worry Quinn. I feel the same way too."

But somehow, he could not get himself to say the exact same things Quinn had said to him.

In this second life he was given, how should he spend it wisely? Somehow, Sam felt he was still doing what did before the accident. He was lying again to Quinn, and especially to himself.

He gave Quinn a small smile as he dried the tears away from her innocent eyes.

* * *

**AN**: This chapter was Sam's chapter like chapter three was mostly the aftermath of Mercedes "killing Sam." Their meeting is coming How do you guys think they will find each other? Let me know. =p

Also, Thank you guys for reviewing this story and any of my other ones, I love knowing what people think of how the story is progressing keeps me motivated. (: _Chapter 5 will be up soon._


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter five._

_xox_

Mercedes peered in at the doorway of her brother's bedroom. Matt stirred, opening his eyes. "Good morning," he scratched his eyes, then yawned.

A smile appeared on Mercedes' face as she walked in the room, carrying a breakfast tray. She immediately opened the big windows. Matt loved to stare outside when doing nothing, especially since he was almost always confined at home. "Wash up first before you eat your breakfast," she said, as she helped him up and assisted him to the bathroom. For the past year or so, Matt was unable to do anything on his own. Yet somehow his physical weakness was overshadowed by his strong and healthy personality.

"Are you done with the English assignment Kurt left you yesterday?" she inquired as she helped him back to bed. Matt was being home-schooled by Kurt, much to Mercedes' delight. She wouldn't trust her brother's well being to anyone other than Kurt. She handed her brother a piece of toast.

"Yes, but Math is really hard," he wrinkled his nose. He took a big bite on his toast and a huge gulp on his glass of milk. "Why don't you change your clothes, ?" he suddenly suggested.

Mercedes raised an eyebrow as she examined her outfit. In her point of view, there was nothing wrong with the tan blouse and khaki trousers she was wearing. "Now what is wrong with what I'm wearing? Plus, you're only twelve. What do you know about fashion?"

Matt shrugged. "Well, Kurt said you always look like a librarian; or that librarians even dress better than you are. He said you lack color and style, whatever that means," he said with a shrug.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to what Kurt says. He doesn't know anything about fashion." Mercedes glanced at her watch. "Finish your breakfast, okay. Miss Emma will come in to get the tray. I have to go or else I'll be late for work." She kissed his brother then ruffled his hair much to his annoyance.

"Say hi to Blaine for me!" Matt said in between bites.

"I will."

Mercedes passed by the mirror on the hallway and studied herself. Matt, or rather Kurt was right. She looked dull. She dashed inside her room to look for something 'with color and style'. Mercedes sighed out loud. She did not have many clothes with colors. Her closet was filled with browns, khakis, black, grey and white. Was her life that colorless? She snatched the only pink shirt she had. She also changed into black Capri pants.

Mercedes once again examined her new outfit. Why she bothered with changing clothes, she could not explain. But somehow she felt something special was coming her way on that day. "This is good. I think," she muttered before running downstairs.

* * *

Same old. Same old. It was as if the accident never happened. Except for the fading bruise on the left side of his upper body. And the once-a-while limping when he walked. And the scar, almost fading though, on his left eyebrow. And the pain he sometimes felt when he moved his left arm in an awkward way.

Other than that, everything was back to normal.

Sam walked casually, trying to hide his limping, towards the table where he would meet his friends for brunch. It was routine for him and a group of close friends, mainly guys, to meet at this time of the hour.

"Hey man!" someone called out to him, diverting Sam's attention.

Sam pulled a chair and plopped himself down. "How you doin' guys?"

Puck, the one who called out to him, snorted, "We're supposed to be the ones asking that question." He slapped Sam on the back. "Did Stevie drive you again?"

"Shit. How'd you know he was driving me to work huh?"

Finn, answered the question for Puck. "Well, we saw you the other day get out his car in the morning. Then, he picked you up in the afternoon. So, are we to assume you've ironed things out with your brother?"

"Stevie was doing things out of duty. You know him. Anyway, I drove today. I've finally convinced my mom to let me borrow her car," Sam called out to a waitress.

"Hey Mike." he nudged his head towards his friend's direction.

The waitress came before Mike could even make a comment. Both Puck and Finn were trying to hit on the young woman asking for their orders; while the woman's attention was all focused on Sam.

Same old. Same old. A woman was once again magnetized towards the blonde-haired man who seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting.

* * *

Mercedes maneuvered her bike towards the entrance of the City Plaza, the shopping district where her work was located. She enjoyed coming to work every time. She was probably the chosen few to have been given a job that provided pleasure and money at the same time, considering she also owned the place where she worked.

An image caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes focused then refocused at a person sitting at one of the tables at the Plaza Café. She blinked once, twice, three times just to make sure she was seeing the same person she thought dead. She edged closer to get a better view.

_It was… him_?

_Definitely him._

It was the same blonde hair that reminded her of a certain teenaged pop star.

Mercedes pedaled slowly, inching closer and closer until she was almost right behind him. She needed to know if her mind was playing tricks on her. He and his friends were oblivious to her presence. Mercedes brought her hand up to try and make contact with him.

And it happened out of instinct. Mercedes _hit_ him softly on the head. The blonde-haired man turned to look at her, eyes in confusion. She stared for a moment seemingly frozen in her place. After a few seconds Mercedes, realizing where she was and what she just did, pedaled her bicycle as fast as her legs can.

It was definitely him; and she needed to get away.

Her cheeks were flaming pink from embarrassment, delight and exertion of energy.

* * *

"What the fu-!" Sam cursed as he felt someone hitting him on the head. It wasn't that hard that it hurt, but it caught him by surprise. He turned around to come face to face with his 'attacker': a young woman with the most beautiful deep brown eyes he had ever laid eyes on. _Damn_. She looked familiar. He jumped up from his seat but his 'attacker' had already sauntered off on her bike in an attempt to run away from him.

"Who the heck is that girl, man?" Puck questioned, laughing his head off. It was not every day he saw some random stranger hit Sam on the head. "You know her?"

"Must be one of them girls whose heart you broke, Sam," Mike snorted.

Sam's eyes were clouded with confusion. He was indeed known to be a ladies' man, but he remembered every single one of his girlfriends – and this girl was never acquainted to him in any way. But why does she look so familiar? He questioned himself. He quickly ran after her without clarifying anything to his friends. He would let them think anything they want, for now. But at the moment, it was of vitality to know of his 'attacker's' purpose of hitting him, and her involvement with him.

Sam quickened his pace, as she was still visible to him. He was a trained marathon athlete back in high school so he wouldn't have a problem walking, or running, fast to catch up with someone.

* * *

_He was running after her_! Damn.

Sometimes, Mercedes just did stupid things with great consequences. If he caught up with her, how would she explain her actions? Oh, she could simply say: "_Well, I thought I killed you. So I was just making sure you're alive by slapping you on the head_!" Yeah right. As if she could really say that.

If she pedaled faster, he wouldn't catch up to her. Mercedes turned around various corners trying to lose him. She dropped her bicycle as she entered a shop called 'Heavenly Scents'. Mercedes grabbed the arm of a colorful clothed man.

"Blaine, is someone following me?" Mercedes whispered to her friend/employee. "Look around you. Quick!" she bent low, peering down at the shop's window as if she was hiding.

Blaine raised an inquiry brow. "Mercedes what's going on with you? Lately these days you're going," he made a circling motion on the side of his head. "Cuckoo. Cuckoo!" he cackled.

Mercedes covered his mouth with her hand. "Ssh. You're making too much noise. He's going to hear us," she said, eyes darting back and forth at passer-bys.

"I – shwear – you're - loooshing – you're – shhanity!" he said through muffled words, mouth still cupped up. "You're running ashh ifth you jusht killedth shhome-one!" he continued. Mercedes only tightened her hold on his mouth.

* * *

Sam hardly lost breath through the labyrinth-like his 'attacker' put him through. Unfortunately, he lost her. She was gone in a click. He took his eyes off of her for a second and he lost her. The girl was apparently an athlete herself or really determined to get away as she rode her bike without any effort.

He browsed the crowd with his green eyes. The moment he turned to his right, he saw two figures bending low looking out the window the other way, their backs turned on him. A bicycle was lying discarded on the ground. A naughty grin played across his lips. He slowly crept inside the store without making any sound whatsoever; then bent his head next to the two figures.

"Are you looking for someone?" he whispered on his 'attacker's' ears.

The woman jumped up straight, bumping her head to his chin, her eyes wide open as she stared at the intruder.

Sam rubbed the skin where the hard contact was made. His eyes focused on one being, though.

Those brown eyes that were a vision of familiarity for him. And then, it hit him.

"It's you," he stated, a soft grin on his face.

* * *

Mercedes shut her eyes tight. This was all a dream. Not reality. She was once again subjected to her wild imagination. Once she opened her eyes, everything would be back to normal.

She slowly lifted the lid. They were met with golden gaze. She shut her own once again. It took her a full thirty seconds to reopen her eyelids.

Eyes like sunrise met her vision once more. He was for real. He was there, staring in front of her breathing and grinning. He was there.

"It's you…" her voice trailed off.

Blaine stared at his friend/employer then at the blonde-haired man. Both were acting strange. Granted, he found the man attractive. He would flirt with him but it seemed this blonde-haired man was already somebody else's.

_And that somebody had just passed out._

* * *

**AN**: Mercedes is down for the count. =p What would you guys do if you saw the person you supposedly killed just eating lunch with his friends minding his own business? lol random question I'd thought I'd ask. =p

**ANN**: Feedback Feedback! What did you think of Sam and Mercedes meeting (again) Review time!


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter six._

_xox_

"What the-!" Blaine croaked as he just about caught Mercedes in his arms. He plopped down on the ground. "She passed out," he stated the obvious. "What did you do to her?" he pointed an accusing finger.

The man with blonde hair stooped down. "I didn't do anything. I followed her after she hit me on the head. I just wanted to know why…"

Blaine gave Mercedes' cheeks small slaps. "Wakey, wakey." he said. "So… What's your name anyway?" Before the other man could answer, Mercedes stirred. "Oh, look who's now ready to join us," he said as he gently pushed the woman up.

Mercedes sat up, looking at Blaine in confusion. "What happened? Did I just pass out?"

"Duh!" Blaine said standing up, dusting himself off.

Someone offered Mercedes a hand in assistance. Mercedes only stared at it, knowing full well who the owner was. She bit her lip.

"You intend to stay there on the ground forever?" the man said to her. Mercedes hesitantly took it. She came face-to-face with him the moment she straightened up. "So… Mind telling me why you slapped me on the head?"

"I, uh… Well, I was just, umm…" She stammered, unable to fit the right words to an explanation. It was a good thing a customer entered the flower shop. "I'm sorry, sir. I have to attend to a customer," she quickly dashed to the customer's side to attend to her needs. Blaine was left to entertain Sam.

"Forgive my boss. She's very dedicated to her job as a florist," he winked at him. "I'm Blaine," he extended a hand.

Sam shook it. "Sam. What about her? What's her name?" he pointed a thumb at Mercedes.

"Mercedes Jones. She owns this flower shop, and she's very good with flower arrangement. So, if you need flowers and flower arrangement for parties and such, don't hesitate to acquire our services." Blaine handed him a business card along with a brochure.

"Blaine, I need your help here," Mercedes called to him through gritted teeth.

Blaine rolled her eyes at her direction. He wanted to talk more to this Sam. "Okay, okay! The boss is calling me. Hope to see you again." he tapped him on the chest before walking away.

Sam glanced at his watch and realized it was high time he goes to work. He stole one last look at Mercedes, who refused to look at him. He would get his answers, sooner or later.

* * *

Sam tapped the steering wheel as he tried to come up with a decision. It was already eight-thirty in the evening; and he was aware his mother would start worrying if he was not home by nine. Ironic, he would be approaching his thirties yet he still had a curfew!

But there was something he had to do first, something that brought him to the City Plaza. He only realized it the moment he parked the car. It was as if the moment he got into his vehicle, he automatically drove to the shopping district. He knew perfectly well the reason behind this out-of-instinct decision. He needed to talk to the woman from earlier. Damn! He forgot her name…

Sam shook his head, choosing to put this woman-business off until the next day. It was not that important, anyway. She was just some random stranger who had the sudden urge to hit him on the head. But earlier that day, his first words upon gazing into her beautiful eyes were the words: "It's you!"

He said it not because he remembered a memory that involved her. He said it because there was something tugging in his mind that prompted his lips to utter such words.

Finally deciding to head home, he tried starting the engine. It did, only to die down in two seconds. He ignited the car five times, but it was no use. He cursed under his breath. Expect his mother's car to be in top shape! The vehicle was hardly used by his mother who hated driving. There was still oil left in the tank. He tried starting the engine once more but the car was totally dead.

"Shit," he muttered as he punched in his brother's number on his cell phone. He hated asking Stevie for favors, but he needed to this time. The moment his brother's voice answered, Sam's phone shut off. He had a low battery.

"What the fuck is going on?" he complained out loud. He got off his car, slamming the door out of frustration.

He thought for a moment before deciding on what to do.

He strode towards the City Plaza, his legs carrying him to a flower shop.

* * *

She was sitting behind the counter, head bent low while reading a magazine.

"Hi," Sam greeted her in an informal way. Her head shot up, eyes widening upon seeing the supposed customer. She gave him a hesitant smile.

"H-how can I help you? Flowers?" she sputtered.

"Phone," Sam muttered, realizing he was being vague. "I meant, uh, can I… Can I use your phone?" She nodded, pointed to phone on the counter. "Thanks," he held up the receiver in gesture. She sat down and bent her head lower. Sam dialed his parents' number, eyes still on the woman who refused to look at him. "Mom?" he asked, when someone answered the phone. His gaze fixed on the woman on the counter. A familiar scene replayed in his mind, where he was walking in darkness and trying to find his way out. Sam was not sure why he suddenly recalled the particular event. Worse, he could not locate when or where the event took place. A sudden thought jarred his mind: somehow this woman in front of him had something to do with the memory.

"Sam?" his mother's voice bolted him back to reality.

Sam blinked in confusion. "Why did you call, mom?" he asked.

"You called. What's wrong with you?" the other end of the line replied.

"Oh, I did? Yeah, I did. Umm… my car, I mean, your car broke down. Phone, not working. Umm… could you send someone to pick me up?" he scratched his head. Sam was aware of how confusing he sounded. His senses were in jumbles at the moment.

"Okay. I'll try to call your brother, if not I'll have your dad pick you up on his way from work. Where are you?" Mary said.

Sam gave the woman a smile when she looked up. "Okay thanks mom, bye." He placed the receiver down. "Thanks for the, uh, letting me use the phone," he said. She only nodded. He was about to exit the shop when he realized something. "Can I use your phone once again?"

She made a gesture in affirmative. Sam quickly re-dialed the number. His common sense was in knots.

"Mom? Do you know where to pick me up?"

"I asked you but you hung up on me," the other end answered.

"Oh I did? Well, I'm at the City Plaza right now. I'm calling from a flower shop here… so, yeah… I'll just wait for either Stevie or Dad, right? Okay, bye mom." He hung up once more without waiting for his mother's reply. He tapped on the counter table, "thanks again." He turned to leave, then pausing once more and turned around. "Would you like to have some coffee with me?"

She stood up and nodded, "Sure."

* * *

The two were seated on the small dark café in solitude. Neither one was talking. Both were acting so engrossed with the beverage they were drinking. Noticeably, they were in sync with their actions. They stirred their coffee at the same time. They put the cups to their lips and set it down on the saucer in unison. Then, both gulped down on their glass of water in harmony. Still, neither one uttered a single word.

"What's your name again?" both questioned each other in unity, resulting in chuckles.

The woman gestured to herself. "Mercedes."

"Sam," he offered a hand to her, which she shook accordingly. "Florist, huh?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"I work at that big building across from here," he said with nonchalance.

Mercedes nodded in amazement. "The network, cable, office thing? What do you do there?"

"Yeah… We basically handle the basic entertainment for the city: digital cables, Internet connections, and such," he paused, examining her face. A smile tugged on his lips. "Why do you look so familiar?"

Mercedes sheepishly smiled. "Well… maybe you've seen me before if you frequent this place?"

Sam shook his head, stirring his coffee. "No, it's not that. I've seen you some place before, not here."

Mercedes sighed. Should she tell him? Before she came up with a decision, he had shifted their conversation to a more personal level. "Tell me more about yourself," he placed his head on his right hand that was propped up on the table. Interest and curiosity were playing on his expression.

"Well, I have a little brother. He's sick – leukemia… but he tries to reassure me he's okay. He's a pretty strong kid," she said.

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"It's not your fault. Anyway, he's the only family I have left. The two of us were orphaned when I was only eighteen," she told him with a smile. Mercedes was not sure whether it was right to divulge her life story to him. Anyway, it would not hurt her. Some even say that sharing one's burdens to a stranger was the best therapy. It was not like Sam and she would talk to each other again… "What about you?"

"Me? Well, I have a father who enjoys reading his newspaper all throughout the day. I also have a younger brother we aren't as close as brothers should be I suppose; and I have a mother who's so overprotective that it's scary. You see, I just recovered from a car accident and she would not let me do anything at all after I got off the hospital…" he trailed off, a word hitting a nerve in his memory bank.

"That's right. I've seen you at the hospital, haven't I?"

Mercedes gulped. "Huh? Oh. Look at the time. I should go home or else my brother would get worried and such…" she stated, finding a way to escape the question. Lucky for her, Sam did not push it further.

* * *

The shopping centre was about to close. Cars parked in the lot can be counted on fingers. An old model white Toyota was sitting alone in the parking lot. Sam regarded it in annoyance.

"That your car?" Mercedes asked. She was walking her bike beside her.

"My mom's actually. It died down on me. I tried over and over. It was no use. I'll show you," he opened the door and hopped in. He inserted the key to the starter just so he could prove his statement to her. Unfortunately for his ego, the car's engine came to life. "Well, would you look at that," he mused, looking sheepishly at Mercedes.

Mercedes eyed him, a bit puzzled. "Well, I have to go. So, goodbye."

Sam stopped her. "I'll take you home."

"I'm fine. I live near the area anyway. Plus, you have to wait for your 'supposed' ride, right?"

That was true. Sam scratched the back of his head. He was so sure the car would not start earlier. A phone rang. His cell phone rang. He stared at it while the simple tune of his ringtone buzzed continually. "It was also dead… Low battery – shut off," he stated in fragmented sentences, trying to convince Mercedes more than himself.

Mercedes only nodded, but a smile tugged on her lips. "Goodbye, Sam. Have a good night," she waved without adhering to his protests.

The blonde-haired man stared at the retrieving figure of the intriguing female. His eyes went back into staring at the ringing phone in his hand. _What the hell happened here?_ It was as if some kind of force played with his sanity. He was sure the car would not start. As a result, he was stuck at the place, not wanting to take any other type of transportation. He was sure his phone automatically shut off because he forgot to re-charge it. As a result, he had to find other ways of contacting someone.

Could it be some kind of fate-thing that brought him here, causing both his car and phone to die at the very moment?

Sam finally decided to answer the phone. Well, what do we have here? "Hey, Stevie!" a welcoming smile crossed his face.

* * *

**AN**: Looks like there's a higher power at work to get those two together huh?

Tell me what you guys think. I hope I did their first "date" some justice. (: Review please they motivate me to get the chapters out faster also you guys' reaction to the chapters always make me smile.

I'll see you guys in chapter 7!


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter seven._

_xox_

"Wonderful job, Ms. Jones. Your flower arrangements are just perfect," the wedding planner gushed upon seeing the colorful petals grazing the place.

The grotto was decorated with chrysanthemums and orchids, illuminating the stone statue of the Heavenly Son. Yellow sunflowers bordered the edges of the pews made out of stones. Different colors of rose petals were scattered along the stoned-path ground. The cool summer breeze carried the sweet scents through the air. It was a magnificent night for an anticipated wedding.

Mercedes looked around her, proud of the work she had done. This wedding was one of the biggest events in the town. Mercedes was more than delighted she had been picked by the marrying couple to take care of flowers and flower arrangement.

"The bride insists that you stay for the reception, okay?" the wedding planner patted her at the back before walking towards the musicians who had just arrived.

Mercedes brought her gaze to the small shrine upon the grotto where the altar had been set up. She decided to give herself a minute or two to say a little prayer.

* * *

He always felt uneasy around weddings. It also stemmed from the fact that weddings meant commitment; and he was not someone committed to commitments. He was a little agitated at the moment. In his mind, he thought he should have stayed with his early decision denying Quinn's request to accompany her to a friend's wedding. But – he had promised to work things out with her.

Sam looked around him. Quinn was with the bride and the rest of the bridesmaid at the moment. So there he was, standing alone in the midst of strangers. He wondered why he could not find anyone of his acquaintance. Perhaps this was Quinn's friends from her other 'world'. That was always the case in their relationship. Sam had always felt he and Quinn were of different worlds. It was as if she could never be part of his world – whatever his world might be.

The beautifully decorated shrine of the Heavenly Son caught his attention. The flowers were just amazing, as if it was the humblest piece of offering. He was mesmerized.

His first thoughts were those of his brother's words: You're given a second chance. Use it wisely. Ironic how too simple words meant so much, especially coming from someone he had never gotten along well.

Sam approached the altar, never taking his eyes off the stone statue of the Lord. He sat down instinctively. He did what he had not done for a long time. He prayed.

* * *

Eyes tightly shut; she uttered the words in her mind she so daily thought of. _My God, please let my brother live a little longer._

Eyes shut in deep concentration; he whispered silently to the heavens above. _My Lord, thank you for making me live a little longer._

She tried hard to control the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks_. I will sacrifice my life for his sake._

He let alone tear fall down his cheek. _I will sacrifice my life for your will be done._

She slowly opened her eyes, focusing entirely on the shrine, unaware of those around or the man sitting beside her_. I know whatever happens, you have a greater plan for Matt and I._

He slowly opened his eyes, gazing on the grotto, oblivious to his surroundings or the woman beside him. _I know that what happened to me was part of your plans for myself._

_I entrust to you my brother. Thank you, my God_. She made the sign of the cross, and slowly looked to her right. And she saw him.

_I entrust myself to you. Thank you, my Lord_. He made the sign of the cross, and slowly looked to his left. And he saw her.

They stared at each other for all eternity in a span of just seconds.

He murmured her name softly upon his lips, "Mercedes."

"Sam?"

* * *

Before she could even react, a blonde haired woman diverted his attention.

"Sam? Honey, I'll introduce you to some of my friends," Quinn's voice snapped him out of a dream-like trance. Her cheerfulness was apparent on her smile. She touched Sam on the arm, beckoning him to come to her side. Sam followed.

He tried to take away his gaze from the woman sitting beside him some seconds ago. He could not comprehend why he did not even notice. Was she there the whole time? Would that explain the extra warm calmness he felt?

Quinn's voice once more snapped him back to reality. She was saying something about a Rachel and a Tina. Sam could not concentrate. He glanced back at Mercedes. She was still there, but her gaze on him was lost.

"Sam," Quinn tugged on his hands. He obviously wasn't paying attention to her once more. "Don't be rude," she whispered. He only nodded, and then shook the hands of her friends.

* * *

Mercedes watched the wedding ceremony with little interest. It was not because it was dull or relatively long; but because one of the guests there made her pulse race, her heart skip beats, her tongue tied in knots, her palms sweaty, and her senses clouded. He was a mere stranger yet he had become so familiar to her in so little time they had known each other.

She silently left the festivity. She did not belong there even though the bride had gracefully invited her to the reception. Anyway, she was too confused at the moment. Seeing him sitting beside her, gazing at the altar, stirred some peculiar feelings she had never experienced before. She hated it; so she left.

* * *

His eyes had darted in every direction of the reception hall. His vision wanted nothing more than the image of the woman with beautiful brown eyes and flowing long curly brown hair. He needed to gaze at her once more; but she was gone. He would have asked around about her. (He had the hunch she was to 'blame' for the amazing flower decorations). But he promised to stick by Quinn for the evening.

Sam conjured up the plan to see her once more. Why? He desperately wanted her friendship. _Nothing more._

For now he would at least try to enjoy the evening, despite his impressions on Quinn's friends. It was not as if they were uncivilized people. In fact, they were 'too' civilized for Sam's liking. All right, Sam hated them. He just could not find any common interest between he and them. They were far too social, high-class and sophisticated for his taste.

Thus, for now, he would at least try to pretend to try to enjoy the evening.

All the way back home, from the Church to Quinn's home to his parents' house, Sam's thoughts were focused on one woman. Mercedes.

He traced the marble pathways to the backyard garden where his parents were having a small cookout evening snack. "Isn't it too bizarre to barbecue at this time of the hour?" he inquired, leaning against the wooden railings on the patio. He raised a brow upon noticing another 'strange' guest. "Hey, why are you here?" Stevie elected not to answer his brother. Instead, he focused his attention to their bickering parents, which immediately caught Sam's.

Apparently, one neighbor woman was 'flirting' with Dwight, much to Mary's dismay. Since then, Mary had not stopped badgering her husband. Sam could only smirk at his mother's jealousy antics.

"Okay. This flirting issue is closed," he out-of-nowhere declared - much, much to everyone's surprise. Usually it was Stevie who would do the controlling. "Mom, you've been married to Dad for, like, thirty-one years now. You know how girls are around him. You should trust him more," he said casually, as if it was no big deal. He turned to his father. "And Dad, you know how Mom is when she gets jealous. Why don't you simply stay away from the female species, eh?"

Both his parents were speechless. Stevie tried hard not to snort. All were silent.

Mary went back to preparing the food. Dwight went back to reading a magazine after checking the grill. Stevie quietly sipped on his beer. Sam grabbed one too to quench his thirst.

After a few minutes of more silence, Sam cleared out loud his throat. "Do you believe in divine intervention?" he asked, question directed to everyone. When no one seemed to understand him, he continued. "The thing is, after I had the accident, I remember nothing from how I was rescued to how I got to the hospital. All I know is the truck hit my car. The next thing I knew, I was in a dark place alone. I hear your faint voices," he indicated his parents. "And yours, too," he nudged his head towards Stevie's direction.

"Then there was another voice. A female's voice. It was soothing, yet had this strong tone of a warrior and a survivor. She beckoned me to continue on. Then she said goodbye. I woke up cause I didn't want her to go," his eyes glossed over now, recalling the scene he so memorized now by heart. "Do you all understand what I mean?"

"Why do you call it 'divine intervention'?" Stevie finally spoke up when no one stirred from the shellshock they had just witnessed. Everyone was just surprised at how Sam had so eloquently spoke.

Sam shrugged. "This woman I thought was my guardian angel."

It took him guts to reveal his inner thoughts to his family. He had hidden this sentimental side of him for so long that it was no surprise how his parents reacted. They were shocked was an understatement of the century. Stevie, on the other hand, remained placid face; but underneath all he was wondering why Sam chose to share his inner feelings with them.

"You all think I'm saying shit and stuff, I bet," Sam snorted, once again reverting to his immature attitude.

Mary glared at him. "Watch your mouth, young man. –And I don't think you're saying foolish things. There's really no one formula in figuring out life, Sam. You take what you get, and make the most of it. But once in your life, a person comes along that brings a whole new meaning to how you live your existence," she sat down beside her son with a comforting smile.

"Quinn is a very sweet young woman who really loves you, my boy," Dwight added, thinking Sam's supposed fiancée was the woman whom provided the divine intervention in his son's life. "Plus, she's the only one who can control you," he snickered.

Sam's mood darkened. He hated it when people discuss about his relationship with Quinn.

"I do not think Sam here wanted to talk about his love life," Stevie interrupted in a sarcastic manner.

Sam eyed him, surprised yet glad he said his peace. He had noticed subtle changes in Stevie's attitudes nowadays. He wasn't always the passive, cold person he once was. He was still silent and calculating but his moods were less dark and chilling. He also spent more time at the city compared to before where he resided at the countryside. There was something going on with his little brother.

"Sooo… why are you here, Stevie?"

"This is also my home. Am I not allowed to come here whenever I want?"

Sam rolled his eyes. Expect the great Steven to give him a straight answer. Stevie spoke in fancy riddles that always baffled Sam. "Sheesh. I was just asking. I thought you hate staying here in the city."

"I have business here to take care of," was the only answer.

"Leave your brother be, Sam. Tell us about the wedding," his mother disrupted Sam's attempt to break Stevie's cool.

Sam pouted his lips like a small boy. "It was boooring! I swear Quinn does the most boring activities. Put her and Stevie together and this world would come crashing down in boredom!" he exclaimed, still trying to annoy his brother.

Stevie shot him a stern glare. He stood up and 'accidentally' hit Sam on the head. "Oops, I didn't see you there. Your big head was on the way." he muttered in a taunting voice.

Sam jumped up from his seat, fists clenched as if ready to have a sparring with his brother. "I can take you on, Steven!"

"Boys!" Mary yelled. "Enough. You're acting like little kids."

"I think their theatrics are actually entertaining," Dwight amusingly proclaimed. It earned him a warning from his wife. He resumed reading.

The two brothers calmed down, especially the hotheaded Sam. Stevie went back to his seat, a brand new beer bottle in hand. Being the logical adult that he was, he had the last say.

"If you find Quinn boring, why are you with her?" he asked. He knew Sam would not say anything anymore.

Sam opened his mouth for a retort then clumped it shut immediately. Stevie was right – he hate to admit it. But he was right. Why was he with Quinn and not… His thoughts trailed.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter eight_

_xox_

Days passed. Weeks passed. Years passed.

Sam shook his head. He was becoming a sentimental fool since he met this certain someone who had been invading his mind lately. In fact, it had only been a day since he last saw her. That was Friday, the night of the wedding of one of Quinn's friends. He was so sure she was the one who made the flower arrangements.

"Mercedes…" he whispered "I have to go see her again!"

There was just something unsettling about her. Her presence was an object of familiarity to him but he could not place her anywhere in his memory. He had to find out or else he would lose his sanity.

Sam grabbed his car keys and headed out in silence. If his mother somehow realized he went out, she would do anything to stop him from leaving. Within minutes he was at the City Plaza. His mother would really kill him if she found out he drove in the fast lane. It was fast approaching six in the evening, and shops would soon close. He raced toward the direction of the flower shop.

"You lookin' for the boss?" It was Blaine, Mercedes' employee. "She's not here. She doesn't go to work during Saturdays. She takes kickboxing classes at this all-female gym somewhere near her place. You might wanna go visit her at her home, because she's probably home by now," Blaine informed Sam.

"Can I ask for her home address?"

Blaine snapped his fingers. "Gladly, my good man. Gladly!"

* * *

_Punch here; punch there! Kick here; kick there_! It was always invigorating to release one's burdens through some kind of workout. For Mercedes, it was through kickboxing.

This time, it was not to unleash her life's sorrows into thin air. It was to erase the girlish emotions she had been feeling since Friday night. She thought she would never see him again. But he was there, sitting beside her, praying. She remembered the shocked yet soft gaze he had given her.

Mercedes touched her flushed cheeks. "Don't think about it, girl!" she muttered. She needed a distraction now!

And the distraction came.

She caught sight of an ambulance backing away from her home's driveway.

Matt!

"Kurt! Kurt!" she called out to her best friend as she passed by his house. "Kurt, come out here!" she yelled. Worry clearly written on her face. The ambulance had its sirens on as it drove past her. "Wait!" she called but it didn't adhere to her. Mercedes nearly tripped over her discarded bicycle as she ran inside the house. She didn't even notice a familiar white Toyota parked along the sidewalk. From the background were the frantic and worried calls of Kurt, whom Mercedes had summoned.

"Miss Emma! Miss Emma, what happened to Matt?" she yelled, tears already stinging her eyes.

What she saw completely tied her tongue and her heart on hold.

"Mercy? Are you okay?" Matt's weakly voice asked his sister.

Mercedes snapped back. "An ambulance outside… Oh, Matt I thought something happened, and I panicked. So, I called out to Kurt and… You! What are you doing here?" she pointed a finger at the unexpected visitor.

Before Sam could even answer, Kurt ran inside the house, tripped and fell on Mercedes. Both best friends were on their butts. Mercedes automatically slapped Kurt on the head.

"Hey!" he protested. "It wasn't my fault you made me nervous. Ow!" Mercedes hit him once more.

"Why the second time?"

"I smell cigarette from your breath," she grumbled under her breath. Mercedes quickly stood up, and gave Sam a sheepish smile. "Heh. Sorry for being rude. I really thought something happened to Matt. So I was panicking and," she was cut off by Kurt.

"Why, hello. I'm Kurt, Mercedes' best friend. Are you her suitor? Because if you are, then that would make you suitor number," he thought for a minute, counting his fingers. "Oh yes. Suitor number one."

Mercedes' face flustered. She nudged Kurt on the side. "Go home, Kurt!"

Kurt smiled shamefacedly. "I didn't even get his name," he protested.

"Sam," the visitor extended his hand to the other man.

"Now you know, go!" Mercedes gently pushed him out of the door. "Don't come back until you cleared the cigarette smell on your breath!" she told him, but with a smile indicating her appreciation. "Good night, Kurt," she called out.

Mercedes focused her attention back on Sam. "What can I do for you?" she inquired. Mercedes could not think of a logical reason why Sam would visit her at home. In the first place, how did he know where she lived?

"Blaine gave me your address. Hope that was okay with you?" he asked, as if he read her mind.

"Blaine? You came by the shop? Why?"

Sam shrugged. "Instinct. Just some sudden urge to visit a newly acquainted friend," he replied.

"He even brought two boxes of donuts," Matt interjected with glee. The boy was simply obsessed with the particular food. "I had the Maple Dip and the Chocolate Glaze for dinner," his bubbled with excitement.

Mercedes blinked as she listened to her brother. "For dinner, huh?"

"Oh, you're home late," Emma appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of food. "This young man had been waiting for you for an hour now," she handed Sam a glass of iced tea. "Here, have another one. Matt, let's leave this two alone." Matt obediently followed Emma.

"Bye Sam. Hope to see you soon!"

"See ya, kid!" Sam waved a hand. They watched Matt went upstairs along with Miss Emma.

Mercedes turned her attention to the visitor, yet not knowing what to say to him. She was not the type to feel shy around the male gender, though she never really had any experience with them. There were only two males in Mercedes' life, Kurt and Matt; three if one considered Blaine as one!

"Have a seat," she offered upon noticing he was still standing. She sat down on the sofa across from where Sam was seated. They remained silent for a few minutes with Sam sipping slowly the iced tea, and Mercedes simply staring blankly into space.

But silence was never Sam's forte. "Matt's one fine young man," he commented.

"He is," she nodded with pride. "How'd you know he simply adored donuts?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Hunch. I love them so I figured I just bring what I love to eat."

Then, silence once more.

The rectangular center table had become the object of attention for both. If looking at one thing for a long time could scar an object, the said table would have been torn to pieces by now.

* * *

What was he thinking when he rang the bell at the Jones's residence?

Oh, right. He was thinking of her. He took a quick glance at the woman sitting about three feet away from him on the front porch. After a few minutes of silence inside the house, followed by more minutes of silence, Mercedes had suggested they go out for some fresh air.

It was a welcoming suggestion as the two silently gazed at setting summer sun.

"Okay, I surrender!" the young woman suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere. "It was me! I was the one who pulled your plug. It was an accident. I did not mean it. Who woulda thunk you'd wake up that instant! There. Happy now? You can call the police and turn me in."

Her hysterics were confusing him. Surrender? Pulled his plug? Accident? The police? "What the fuck are you talking about?" Sam didn't even filter the words coming out of his mouth. When he was confused, he reverted to his rude, un-gentleman self.

Mercedes eyed him. "Isn't it why you're here? To make me feel guilty from what happened at the hospital?"

"Hospital? Is that where we first met? I don't remember," Sam mused to himself.

From the looks of it, Sam was as clueless as a bag of peas on what Mercedes was talking about.

In a way, it was really no big a deal. If one thought about it deeply, what had Mercedes done wrong? Yes, she 'accidentally' pulled his life plug off and his oxygen connection. He survived, didn't he? So what was she so guilty and worried about?

The truth was Mercedes was embarrassed to expose what she did at the hospital – the daily visits to his room. Think about it, what self-respecting woman would spend time alone with man, a stranger for that matter. Granted at the time Sam was unconscious. But that was beside the point. Mercedes still did things she was embarrassed about.

"Yes, we met at the hospital," she admitted to him but left it at that. If he really wanted to know, he should find it out for himself.

Sam snapped his fingers. "I knew it! That was why you were so familiar. There, I will sleep peacefully now. I always get so restless when some things boggle my mind."

"So, I'm mind-boggling?"

Sam chose not to answer her question. He just gave her a smile, which prompted one on her lips as well. The two stayed there gazing at the sky, talking about random subjects as if they were old friends catching up on each other. If it wasn't for the phone call from Sam's mother, he might have forgotten about going home.

"I guess… I gotta go. My mom's bugging me now," he said sheepishly as the two of them walked toward his car.

Mercedes extended her hand stiffly. "Good night," she said. Sam shook her hands, and kissed her on the cheek with hesitation and a touch of awkwardness. Mercedes felt her cheeks reddened. "Uh… Take care. Drive safely," she almost whispered.

Funny how easy it was to form a friendship with a stranger.

* * *

**AN**: She finally confessed. Lol Don't forget to _review. _I don't care what Fanfiction changes, it will always be a review to me, not a comment. This isn't facebook or youtube. . teehee!


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter nine_

_xox_

There was always something magical in staring at the darkening sky with a blanket of stars. It was mesmerizing. It soothed the troubled nerves of a person. For Mercedes, it was a moment's peace – something she and her father used to do when she was little. It was a ritual almost every night. After dinner, her father would go out to the porch to sit quietly. Mercedes would join him, sitting beside him and waiting for whatever her father would say. Usually he would sing Mercedes a song he and her mother shared.

"Mercy," Matt smiled at her as he joined his elder sister. "Okay if I join you?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes in amusement. She ruffled her brother's thick brown hair as he sat down beside her, just what she used to do when her father was alive. God, how she missed her father! The two siblings sat in silence for a moment; digesting the beauty the sky offered them.

"Mercy, sing the song Dad used to sing to you," he suddenly requested.

"Dad and Mom's love song?" Mercedes beamed. She wrapped an arm around Matt, drawing him closer to her. "Alright, if you really want me to disturb such a peaceful night." She cleared her throat. _"There's a saying old. Says that love is blind. Yet we're often told. Seek and ye shall find. So I'm goin' to seek a certain lad. I have…in mind._" her soft voice filtered the night breeze. "Join me in singing the chorus," she beckoned. Matt nodded. He loved to sing to.

"_There's a somebody, I'm longing to see. I hope that he turns out to be. Someone to watch over me._" Mercedes stood up, pulled Matt with her. "Dance with me, little brother."

"_Although he may not, be the man, some girls think of," _she poked Matt on the chest_. "As handsome, to my heart he carries the key. Someone to watch…over me._"

"And I will watch over you, Mercy," Matt whispered, as he and Mercedes slow danced in their front yard, uncaring if passer-bys would see them.

* * *

It was a sight that touched his heart. A smile was carved on his lips as he watched them dance. Her singing voice gently massaged his hearing as the words were carried by the humming wind to his direction. He would have stayed where he was, simply enjoying the scene ahead. Unfortunately, Matt caught his presence. The boy brightened up, and waved to his direction.

"Hi Sam!" he called out to him.

Sam laughed at the child's enthusiasm. Kids rarely paid attention to him. They saw him as a stuck-up, snobby, immature adult who loved to bicker even to the younger ones. That was why he wondered why Matt could not only stand being around him; he actually enjoyed Sam's presence.

Maybe because he was actually decent and civilized around Matt, compared to his grumpy, childish attitude towards other children? It was a question only Sam could answer.

"Look what I've got!" Sam held up another box of donuts. Matt walked toward him. "It's for you, kid."

Mercedes smiled at him. "You always bring donuts whenever you visit," she raised a brow. "You're spoiling my brother." Sam shrugged as he handed the box over to the boy. He brought them inside the house upon Mercedes' request. "Have you had dinner?" she asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

Evening visits at Mercedes' had become an occurrence. Sam found himself driving to the direction of her house after work. Coincidentally, his mother had become a little lenient on him. She rarely questioned why Sam seemed to come home at a late hour; although she still refused that he'd move back to his own apartment. Sam didn't mind spending time at his parents' house.

"Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna eat dinner?" Mercedes brought him back to reality.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," he replied sheepishly. That was one of the usual occurrences: him being lost in thoughts whenever around Mercedes. Sam just seemed to drift away, almost enter a dream where it only involved him and his newfound friend, none other than Mercedes Jones.

"I've been eating dinner here a lot, huh?" he threw a sideway glance at her as they entered the house.

Mercedes half-snorted. "Yeah? I didn't notice," she joked. Funny how she easily got used to his company in so little time they had known each other.

"Tomorrow I swear I'll arrive early and even cook dinner for you," he said half-heartedly, amusement resonating in his tone.

Mercedes knew that but she decided to put him up to the challenge. "Very well, Mr. Evans. I'll tell Ms. Emma not to tire herself out tomorrow, cause we'll be expecting dinner from you."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He was a decent cook - when it came to re-heating leftovers or popping something in the microwave. "Nah, I don't think you're prepared for such exotic recipes," he chuckled.

The lady in front of him turned to face him, hands crossed. Her eyes were challenging him. "No, I think we'll manage whatever you'll prepare tomorrow. Matt will be excited to know his 'idol'," she raised her fingers in quotations, "will be preparing dinner tomorrow."

There was nothing he really could do. He was a 'man' of his word. "Fine, Mercedes. Just don't blame me of food poisoning."

* * *

Cooking. How long ago had he done the particular task? Well, he certainly remembered when he was in grade ten he was forced to take up a hospitality course just because it was either the Family Studies class involving research, writing essays and long boring discussions; or the Hospitality course where it involved learning how to cook. Sam took the easy way out for a credit. He barely passed. He hated to cook.

But why couldn't he wipe off the huge, silly grin on his face when he arrived at the Jones's residence about five hours before dinnertime?

He wanted to prove to Mercedes he was a man of his word; and he also wanted to surprise her with a cooked dinner once she arrived. He just got off his car when Matt's face appeared from the huge window above. The kid seemed to detect his presence every time he visited. That was why he had something for him.

"Hey, kid!" he fondly called out to him. "I've got something for you!"

Matt waved his hand to him. "I'll come down," he said in his youthful exuberance.

Sam couldn't help but be excited. He was usually a selfish person, in terms of never really caring of other people's happiness. But right now, he felt responsible in making Mercedes' little brother a bit happy. Few minutes later, Matt was slowly walking toward him. His steps were slower and his body movements were weaker. Sam felt something inside ache. He could not grasp the idea of why such a young, kind-hearted child like Matt should be subjected to such pain and trials.

"Look," he opened the door to the passenger's seat, beckoning Matt to take a peek. On the seat was a basket wrapped in a red blanket. There was purring coming from the inside. "I dunno who else to give her to."

Matt's eyes had widened in excitement. Inside the basket was a white kitten with black stripes on her tail. He looked at Sam in question. "Is she yours?"

"She's yours, now. If you want her. She's a stray. My mom's allergic to cats and I'm actually a dog-person. So… I thought you and Mercedes would be best to have her."

"What's her name?" Matt picked up the kitten lovingly in his arms.

"You can name her if you want. I often call her 'cat'," Sam snorted. He started gathering grocery bags from the back seat. "Let's get inside so I can start preparing dinner," he said, adding a little grumble in his tone.

Matt followed him inside. He was very much used to Sam's presence now. He actually enjoyed his company. "Isn't it too early to cook dinner?"

"Nah. I need all the time I can have. I'm not much of a cook. Have you finished your studying?" he inquired, putting the grocery bags on the top counter inside the kitchen. Emma had greeted him with a smile upon entering the doorway.

"Kurt will not be coming in today. He said he had a date," Matt shrugged. "So, I really have no school today," he chimed in excitement.

Sam laughed. Matt still possessed what boys his age typically had. "Tell me about it. I hate school," he snickered. "So, why don't you help me out here?"

Matt wrinkled his nose, knowing full well he turn out to be a nuisance rather than being a big help. He scratched the back of the kitten's ears. "Raisin," he said out of nowhere.

"Hn?" Sam turned to him.

"That'd be her name. Raisin."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he fixed his gaze on the delicately beautiful white kitten in the little boy's arms. "Raisin, it is."

* * *

The preparation of dinner went relatively well. Sam managed to follow the directions of the recipe he stole from his mother's kitchen. With the help of Emma, he was able to do some mincing, chopping and boiling.

Spaghetti with prepared meatballs was served.

Mercedes came home about an hour early just to anticipate Sam's visit. Imagine her surprise when she found Sam with Matt playing with a small kitten in the front yard.

"Did you just get here?" Mercedes asked Sam as she set her bike just outside the doorway.

"Nope. I've been here hours ago. Dinner's ready," he said, looking only once to Mercedes before returning his gaze on Matt and Raisin

Mercedes allowed the smile to linger on her face. Watching Sam watching over her brother was heart-warming. He looked as if it was a natural thing for him to do. How long had they known each other? A month now? Somehow, Sam had become a part of Mercedes' family.

"Really, now. So you did keep up with your promise of dinner?" she mused as she sat beside him on the front porch. "Is that your cat?"

"Nope. It's Matt's," Sam answered.

"Her name's Raisin, Mercy. And I don't think Raisin will like it if we call her 'cat' one more time," Matt interjected.

Sam nodded like a little boy. "Yup, yup. That's my name for her before Matt named her Raisin. When I called her 'cat' once more, 'bout five minutes ago, she tackled me like some wild cat demon!" Mercedes laughed picturing what Sam had just described.

They all stayed outside until Emma called them in. When they finished eating, Sam even helped with the clearing of the table and with the washing of the dishes. Mercedes would simply stare at him, whenever he wasn't looking, simply observing Sam.

"So… Mercedes," Sam turned to her, a sly smile on his face. "Since I did my part in making dinner for you, why don't you do your part in keeping your promise."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. You told me once you'll show me the flower farm where you get all those flowers you sell."

Mercedes tapped her chin. "I did? Why not." she shrugged her shoulders.

Sam gave her a genuine smile. "It's a date, then."

* * *

**AN**: They are getting closer (: What do you guys think of the progression of their relationship too slow? too fast? Let me know.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter ten._

_xox_

Sam looked around him, finally expelling the breath he held onto for so long. He was clueless as to why he felt mesmerized with all the flowers surrounding him. It was as if he was seeing the beauty of it all for the first time. True, he never had any regards to flowers and plants, or nature in general. For him, those were only a part of the outside world that added color and decorations along the streets, in events, or a dull room. A mere decoration.

Now it was a different perspective. It also helped that the woman walking beside him talked about flowers as if it was the most precious object. Flowers, in Mercedes' own usage, were pieces of jewellery goddesses left behind. Heavenly creatures, she added.

"See that flower farm over there," Mercedes pointed from afar. "That field used to be ours, almost everything in there was a product of my mom's hard work; but I sold it in order for Matt's medication. It was a lot of help though, that's why I never once regretted it."

"So, you've been in the flower business all along?"

"Yup. Since I could remember. My mom was a florist. She loved flowers. I remember how she used to weave different flowers into a small crown, and then put it on my head."

Sam couldn't help smile as he tried picturing a young Mercedes with a flowing floral dress. Crowning her head were colorful flowers. She must have looked lovely.

"See, I told you it's gonna be boring here." Mercedes nudged him on his side.

Sam shook his head in disagreement. "On the contrary, I was rather speechless at the splendid of it all."

"Dramatic," Mercedes rolled her eyes, but she was laughing.

"Mercedes," someone called out to her. Mercedes welcomed the woman with an embrace.

"How are you doing this lovely day, Ms. Beiste?" she gave the older woman a warm smile. "By the way, this is Sam, Ms. Beiste."

Sam extended his hand in greetings. The old woman peered in closer at the tall young man beside Mercedes. She studied Sam before giving her nod of approval. "Hmm. Nice to meet you, Sam. So you are my Mercedes' young man?"

Both Mercedes and Sam blushed at the question. "Oh no, Ms. Beiste. Sam's a good friend of mine. He wanted to see the flower farm so I took him with me for my monthly visit."

The older woman partially snorted. "And here I thought you wanted me to meet your future husband," she fixed her eyes on Sam. "Are you two staying then for the festival?"

"Is that today?" Mercedes asked, her eyes widening. "I cannot believe I forgot about the Floral Festival."

"Very well, you both should stay even if it's only up to the end of the parade. I'll see you later, punkin'," she bid them goodbye.

"Floral Festival?" Sam asked.

Mercedes nodded. "Yeah… It's an annual flower festival where they have parades of floats made of flowers. It's really fun."

"Then I guess, we'll be seeing this floats of flowers," Sam winked at her.

"Oh, you're not obliged to stay, Sam. It's just that because I own a flower farm, I should at least see the float our workers had prepared."

Sam folded his arms. "Hmph. Who said I'm staying here just because you want to?" he sniffed, like a little arrogant ten-year old boy. "I'm staying because I want to."

Mercedes restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Fine, fine. You can stay," she said like a mother finally giving in to a child.

* * *

Within an hour, the parade started. People had started piling up the streets of the small town. Children were everywhere, many wearing colorful leis. Bright-colored flowers were tucked behind ears of lovely ladies. The streets were also covered with petals of different kinds.

"This must be what heaven looks like to you," Sam notes, practically yelling through the loud noise.

Mercedes nodded in delight. "I know."

Loud speakers that seemed to be placed all around the small town started booming. The parade had started. People started cheering as the first float appeared. Sam couldn't help but clap his hands in amazement. He had never been to such a lovely event in his life. The first float had already caught his attention as thousands and thousands of sunflowers were put together making a big replica of a sunflower.

"Why didn't I know about this before?" he asked out loud, more to himself. Mercedes smiled at him.

Following the sunflower float was a group of children, dressed as little bumblebees, dancing as they paraded.

"So, you have any idea what your float will be like?"

Mercedes laughed. "Not really. Was too busy to actually organize it. I know that Ms. Beiste did an extremely excellent job. This is actually the first time I had no idea what we'll be presenting," she told him.

Crowds started cheering as one by one floats of different kinds appeared. One float had violet orchids shaped into a big dolphin. The kids were delighted at the sight. Another one had red roses made into medium-sized hearts. Another float was a pink butterfly composed of chrysanthemums and other kinds of flowers. Finally, Mercedes' float appeared.

"Oh," was the only thing Mercedes could say.

Sam's mouth dropped open. It was beautiful. The float Mercedes' flower farm had prepared was just mesmerizing. In the middle of the float was a single-stemmed flower made of cherry blossoms. The effect the float tried to emulate was that the single stemmed flower was planted underneath the sea, as corals made of lilacs, daisies of different colors, some roses adorned the feet of the huge flower. It was too grand for words. Sam noticed a single tear dripping from Mercedes' eyes.

"Beautiful," Mercedes murmured. The crowd shared her sentiment as they cheered the passing float.

The parade ended after about fifty floats wowed the streets of the small quiet town. People gathered at the nearby park for the biggest cookout. Sam and Mercedes joined the companies of the many festival-goers. The overall event ended just when the sun began to set. It was one of those occasions Sam would always remember. Perhaps it was the happiest event he had ever been to, more memorable than his big birthday parties when he was a child.

The two of them quietly made their way to the parked car, as people were still bustling in the streets. "Here," Sam handed Mercedes a single-stemmed pink rose. "I plucked it out from the angel float," he mumbled.

Mercedes chuckled, aware her cheeks were the same pinkish color as the one Sam had just handed to him. She also mumbled a quiet thanks.

_Flowers for you, on this lovely evening_

_Though they have no words they share my feelings_

_As we walk along the avenue_

_Pardon me; I just can't help staring at you_

The ride home was spent in silence; due to the fact Mercedes had unconsciously fallen asleep. Whenever the vehicle was not in motion, Sam found himself staring at the woman asleep on the passenger's seat. It was as if she was a fallen angel resting from divinely intervening.

Sam knew the feeling developing inside of him. He was aware of it but not familiar. All his life, he had been 'in love' with two women. But this feeling he was having at the moment was different. When he was with Santana, he felt he it was his duty to be serene, silent and dramatic. It was as if a small smile was already an indication of happiness. With Quinn, on the other hand, he was rude, argumentative, sarcastic and all the while obedient and submissive. A snort and a smirk were signs of contentment.

With this woman, Mercedes, his fallen angel, it was different. For the first time, Sam felt like being himself. The man who can be serene but brusque. The boy who can be silent but loud. The person who can be dramatic but humorous. He could be the Sam that could be domineering and obedient at the same time. A hearty laugh and a huge silly grin were the peaks of his happiness.

He was a different man with Mercedes, just because he was himself.

Sam being his playful self touched the tip of Mercedes' nose. "Boop." He chuckled in amusement when Mercedes wrinkled her nose and automatically scratched it.

Mercedes stirred from her sleep the moment Sam put the car in a halt. They were right outside her home. "Wow, it's late, huh," she said eyeing her watch.

"Yeah, the traffic was heavy exiting the town. There were so many people who came to the festival." He stepped out of the car, walking quickly to reach Mercedes' side. He mentally shook his head when Mercedes didn't even wait for him to open the car door for her. Only showed how independent she was. "You didn't even give me the chance to show my gentlemanly skills."

"Oh," she smiled sheepishly. When she stood up straight the closeness of the two of them immediately dawned on her.

_When I look into those sparkling eyes_

_I float in the air and wander in paradise_

_You give my heart a source of inspiration_

_Your beauty is beyond imagination_

She thought she had taken a step back to allow for more distance between the two of them; but his green windows to his soul magnetized her. They were most the perfect hues she had ever laid eyes on.

Sam was also mystified at how enthralling the deep brown eyes Mercedes owned. It was the same color as Santana's; but Mercedes was more captivating, more hypnotizing.

He was truly becoming a sentimental fool.

"I should.. probably..get home," he barely said it in a whisper. He took a step away from her.

Mercedes seemed to snap back. "Yeah I, uh… thanks for accompanying me today," she answered, her throat suddenly becoming dry. She quickly walked to the front porch; Sam escorted her. "Thanks again," she said as Sam started walking back to his car. She turned to insert her keys in the door.

"Mercedes," Sam called her name. She quickly turned around, as if expecting it, upon hearing her name,

"Yes?"

The answer came from the softest, quickest touch of his lips on hers. "Lovely evening with you," he said through dazed eyes after pulling back. His cheeks were stained red. Sam rushed to his car.

Mercedes stood frozen where Sam had left her. There were tingles in her body. Suddenly, everything around her turned magical. A smile crept to her face.

_You are the one_

_The only one that I desire_

_When we touch_

_When we're one you light the fire_

_The seasons we share_

_Hand in hand, there seems to be no time_

_Each day with you becomes…_

_A Valentine._

* * *

**AN**: Ten chapters down. For those wondering, Quinn is very much still around, She and Sam are still together. She will be showing up soon enough but I'm sure none of you are looking forward to that. Until then enjoy the "Happy" chapters while you still can. lol

Review time!


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter eleven_

_xox_

- Sam's POV

I feel like some virginal boy who just got laid.

Fool! I roll my eyes at my idiotic, almost perverse thoughts.

This huge, silly grin just wouldn't leave my damn face though. It was only a kiss; yet it is shaking my whole world in pleasurable rambles. Damn. What is it about Mercedes Jones that makes me feel this way? I shake my head to re-focus myself. I need to concentrate on the road or I would once again get involved in another car accident. I might lose the second chance I have.

Once again, Stevie's words haunt me.

"_You're given a second chance. Use it wisely_," he has said.

Such simple words yet full of wisdom. I may not like this arrogant brother of mine; but I am not blind to the intelligence he possesses. (The bastard does deserve to replace dad as the president of the Evans' company.)

I watch the outside surroundings as they fade into the night. My smile never fades. I think my face hurts. It has been pasted on me since I have left Mercedes' house.

Mercedes.

The name rolls of my tongue like honey. Such cliché, but it's the most sincere I could describe it. Mercedes' presence just humbles me, knowing myself as an overconfident and quite egoistic fool.

Surprise hits me hard when I register in my sight the familiar houses lining my parents' neighborhood. I must have driven that fast to get here this fast! I am such a careless moron. It amazes me, though; I have arrived safe after being in a dream-like moment.

Like rewinding a movie, I replay the scene where I kiss Mercedes. On the lips even, in my entire brave persona! I want more, in all honesty. In a jiffy, I slowly see myself ravaging her lips like a wild demon. Demanding. Wanting. Ruffling her hair as each strand entangles in my fingers. I see myself tracing kisses down her throat to the opening of her shirt, down to her-

I halt there. It is not honorable to think of such dirty thoughts about a woman like her; especially if I am driving in the middle of the night. I cursed myself in my stupidity.

This only proves I could never deserve Mercedes in her refinement and grace. I could never be the man to make her happy. I could never be the person to fulfill her desires and needs.

Shit. Sentimental fool! What the hell is wrong with me now?

I let the small grumble escape my lips while I park my car in the driveway.

The smile never leaves. Despite of all the things I could never be, somehow in my mind, I believe I could still win Mercedes' affection.

This proclamation overwhelms me. I am happy, truly happy. Is this all Mercedes' doing? How long have I known her? Two months, and yet I feel like she has been a part of me. It feels like she has helped me mould my new personality – the kind that sees the future in a different way. For that, I am truly glad.

I whistle out loud as I slowly trace the path leading to the house. A maid greets me in her usual formal way. I surprise her with a bear hug.

"Good evening to you too." I greet her in my most cheerful mood upon releasing her. She looks stunned. Who wouldn't? I usually snarl at them. But this time, it is different. I am the new Sam! "Where are mom and dad?"

"They're in the drawing room, sir, I believe," she answers me, still maintaining a formal tone; but this time her body seems relaxed in my presence.

"Thanks," I give her a salute, being really childish at the moment. Love really makes a person all giddy. "Mommm! Daaaaaddd!" I bellow. Isn't it funny I'm being my usual loud self, but with a spoonful of cheeriness? That happens almost rarely.

"I'm so happy!" I exclaim. "So happy. The world is so colorful in my eyes right now. The sun shines brightly even in night. The stars twinkle in broad daylight. I am not afraid to say that I am…" I take a little pause to breathe in deeply. "I am in love with Mer…"

The smile fades.

My mom stands up from the sofa. "Quinn's here, Sam," she says.

"Qu-Quinn?" I ask as she greets me with her sweet smile. "Of course, I'm in love with _Quinn_…" Now, why did I have to say that? I am lying through my teeth. Same old fool.

_You're given a second chance. Use it wisely._

Damn. Stevie's words are haunting me again.

"Well, we'll leave the two of you for now," mom tells me, dragging dad with her. Quinn gives them a good night kiss.

Quinn turns to me with a serious expression. "We need to talk, Sam."

I nod. She has been gone for a month. During that duration, something has happened that concerns Mercedes and Quinn as well. I must tell her. "I know. I also have something to say."

Quinn sits down. "Sit, Sam," she pads the seat beside her. I oblige. I always do for some strange reason. Sometimes, in my idiosyncrasy way of thinking almost always I follow what she says.

She holds my hand in an intimate gesture. I let her begin the conversation.

"I know I've been gone for a month. I didn't tell anyone, especially you, where I was going. I needed it for myself that's why I kept it a secret," she tells me. I listen intently. For the first time in our relationship, I'm all ears to what she has to say. No arguing, no interrupting. "I actually went to a spiritual retreat. I needed it to clear my mind of disturbing thoughts, and my heart of disturbing feelings, doubts and confusion. One of the things I talked to my retreat leader is our relationship."

She is also aware of the cracks and flaws in our relationship. Quinn is a smart woman.

"I've always been striving for a perfect relationship with you, Sam. I always have this idea of how it will work out for the two of us. I now realized that it's not always like that," she looks down on her lap, unable to meet my eyes. Is she breaking things between the two of us? Somehow, I do not know how to respond to it. Should I be relieved I will not be the one causing heartache tonight?

She starts talking once again. "Also, I told my retreat counselor about my problems with Santana," it comes out as a whisper.

A sigh is itching to come out from my mouth. I restrain it. (Ever since Quinn and I started dating, she always had issues with my previous relationship.) Santana is my first love, and she still holds a piece of my heart. I guess she will always be inside of me, whether I want to get rid of or not. Santana has helped me, in a way, to be the person I am.

"My jealousy over Santana is something that can't fade," Quinn admits. "I know how important she is to you, Sam," her voice starts quavering. "She's your childhood sweetheart and first love. I cannot change that; and I accept it," she gives me a smile as she squeezed my hand.

My eyes narrow a bit. What is Quinn trying to say to me? These are the times I wish I were as smart as Stevie for being quick-minded. I am too slow in reading between the lines.

"Sam, I'm ready," she suddenly announces. Huh? Ready for what? As if reading my mind, she fingers the engagement ring on her finger. "I was confused. I was in doubts. I was unsure. But this time, I am certain." She leans forward. Her smell is still intoxicating, though. "Let's set the date to our wedding," she whispers in my ear.

My throat suddenly becomes dry. The image of sparkling brown eyes flashes in my eyes.

Mercedes…

"I was hesitant before, Sam. But now, I'm ready for our future together," Quinn snaps me back to reality. She kisses me on the cheek.

Suddenly all the words I am about to divulge in her vanish. Just when I am about to cut the thread binding us together, it refuses to break. I am still tied to my old life of lies and blindness.

_You're given a second chance. Use it wisely._

Fuck, Stevie. You think it's as easy as how it sounds? You try it, brother; and then maybe you can tell me how to do things 'wisely'.

I wrap an arm around Quinn. She rests her head on my shoulder. It's a good thing she can't see my face. If she does, she'd see how uncertain my expression has become.

"Okay," I say it meekly. Suddenly I feel all the exhaustion of the day grow in my limbs.

"You're going to tell me something, Sam?" she inquires, head still on my shoulder.

"It's not important now," I tell her.

But it is important, I argue to myself. It is important because it deals with my life, my future, and my second chance.

Yet here I am, doing nothing to fix everything.

I am hurting three people in my passiveness.

I am hurting Quinn for being untruthful. I am hurting her because she deserves a better man. I am hurting her because I am deceiving her.

I am hurting Mercedes because I cannot be true to myself in claiming I love her, though she may never know. I hope these feelings I have for her are one-sided. In that way, I will be the only one hurt between the two of us.

Finally, I am hurting myself.

I am a deceitful coward.

* * *

**AN**: And so the angst begins. && Thanks to all of you who recently and not so recently added this story to their favorites and alerts, I really appreciate it I hope this story spreads to more people to enjoy. (: Feel free to recommend it to people if you are really enjoying it =T


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter twelve_

_xox_

-Mercedes' POV

I open my eyes as the first ray of sun filters my room, instinctively, a finger touches my lower lip. It is so early in the morning and I am still thinking about last night's kiss. Both my hands cover my burning cheeks.

The kiss: it has been quick, soft, sweet and magical. It has invaded my thoughts the moment Sam has pressed his own on mine, has pulled and walked away from me; and all throughout the night

I stand up and do my morning ritual of going to look out the window to gaze up the sky. The sky is at its perfect color. Perfect weather equals a perfect day. I let a contented smile creeps into my face.

Suddenly I feel like doing something I have not done for months, ever since Matt has become gravely ill in his battle with leukemia. But now, all is well. I walk towards the drawer where I keep pens and paper. Words suddenly need to pop out of me. I take out a pen and a piece of paper, sit down on a chair, and I start writing. A smile and a blush never fade as I keep writing and writing. No one knows of this hidden talent I have with words. Finally I am finish of what I have to do. I raise the paper eye-level so I could read what I have written. I believe my blush got redder and redder as I read each word.

_Eyes_

_Like a sunrise_

_Like a rainfall_

_Down my soul_

_And I wonder_

_I wonder why you look at me like that_

_What you're thinking_

_What's behind_

_Don't tell me_

_But it feels_

_Like love_

Poetry has always helped me deal with my emotions. My tears usually appear through each line I am able to write. My smiles brighten the mood of the poem I produce. My anger and rage are visible in each metaphor I use. Poetry has been a part of my life for so long I wonder why I neglected it when the situation with Matt has gotten tougher.

Poetry in my younger years usually involves ponies and unicorns, flowers and sunshine, dolphins and lullabies. My teen years provide a much darker side in the stanzas I write as I have used poetry in dealing with my parents' death, taking responsibility of my brother, and being an adult when I should have been a child.

But I have never written a romantic poem. This is the first, I carefully note to myself, as I re-read the eleven-line free verse. I blame this change to Sam – the man who has changed many things about me.

Because…

With Sam, I am able to laugh without feeling guilty, (unlike before when I automatically think I could not be happy while my brother is suffering).

With Sam, I am able to feel my femininity but still maintain that warrior-type persona I am so used to.

I sigh out loud. I should start getting ready for work.

* * *

I enter the flower shop with a lighter mood. I am actually quite cheerful at the moment. I greet Blaine, who I am pretty sure is eyeing me curiously.

"Hmm. How are you girl? You look extremely happy this morning." he notes. Am I that obvious?

"I am happy. Why do you ask?" I talk with a tune in my voice. Blaine must be thinking I'm getting crazy.

He follows me to the back room of the shop. I start fixing a small bouquet of roses. I am feeling extra creative today. I just start putting the flowers together, unsure of how it will come out. The Floral Festival has inspired me so.

"How was the trip to the farm yesterday?" he asks.

I blush a little at the question – well, technically, on what, or who, the question is involved. "It was fantastic, Blaine. Did you know that the Floral Festival was yesterday?" He shakes his head. "Well, they have more floats than the previous year. Fifty-three in exact." I fill him in with detailed descriptions of what our float looks like. I'm sure he is a little disappointed he is not able to see it for himself.

"So, Kurt drove you there?"

I see where he's getting at. I'm aware of Blaine's crush on Kurt. He just couldn't accept the fact Kurt is my bestest friend. Nothing more. _As if he could be._

"Um, no. Not Kurt this time. I asked Sam to accompany me," I try to look straight-faced. I fail at the attempt. Just the mere mention of Sam's name creates tingles in my body.

"Sam? That blonde haired guy who keeps coming here without even buying anything?"

"Yeah… that guy," I answer in a calm tone, but goose bumps have started appearing on my arms.

I see Blaine folding his hands. He taps a single foot on the ground. He stares at me with wide eyes. Part of me knows what kinds of thoughts are playing on his mind at the moment. Aside from Kurt, Blaine has been a long-time friend-and-employee of mine. I know him too well now. Then he shows me his mischievous grin. This man very sly.

"What?" I inquire as I continue fixing the bouquet of flowers.

"Don't tell me you're in love!"

My eyes widen. Am I that obvious? "Nooo," I start to deny. "And you asked that question like it's venom in your mouth," I comment, partly diverting his focus on the 'Sam' subject.

He flares his nose up in an arrogant way. "Falling in love is like tasting venom in your mouth," he states dramatically. I want to laugh at him but the seriousness on his face makes me think otherwise. "Falling in love is the same as being broken-hearted."

Now, I am confused. How is that possible? I may not have the necessary experience to argue with him, but I know too damn well those two feelings are of different categories. "Now, you're talking nonsense."

He stomps his foot. He wants badly to get his point across. "It is the same thing, Mercedes. When one falls in love, you can't sleep. You can't eat. You can't think straight. You're always zoning out, staring into space. When one is broken-hearted, you can't sleep, eat and think straight. You zone out, staring into blankness." He ends his little speech with a determined nod of his head.

In a way he has a point. But I still disagree. Falling in love, as I have perceived it before, is feeling happy and light, seeing the person as if he is the most beautiful being on earth, and still loving the person despite the flaws you see in him. That is falling in love. Being heartbroken is losing someone, feeling null and void in the inside, being lost and out of touch. That is being broken-hearted.

Blaine turns to me once more. There was no sign of amusement in his eyes – something that means he's in earnest. "The hardest part of falling in love is if it's one-sided, Mercedes. The person sometimes seems to share your feelings; but in the end you'd realize he or she is just fooling you. Sometimes, you yourself are the one doing the fooling. In the end, you're left to mend a broken heart that takes time to heal."

His statement hits me hard like a slap on the face. A series of what-ifs starts to line up in my head. What if I am the only one having these feelings towards Sam? What if Sam is only trying to have fun? What if he only thinks of me as a friend? What if the kiss means nothing more than a mere kiss? What if I imagined the kiss after all?

My perfect mood has turned sour all of a sudden. Feign to Blaine for pointing out the downside of such foolish emotions.

Blaine snaps me out of my somber reverie. He pats me on the back.

"On the other hand, if it's this Sam you're falling in love with, it's mighty grand, baby. The guy is a hunk, a half-demon in disguise, Mercedes. Mm-hmm!" He is back to his typical playful and flirty self. "Also, he seems so devoted to you, my love. The way he looks at you, talks to you, it's as if he sees you as a goddess," he winks at me.

Somehow, I could not return the jovial mood from earlier. It has become dark and gloomy.

"Hey!" Blaine shakes my shoulder. He points at the flower bouquet I have been trying to make. With the ominous statements my dear friend has made, I somehow have paused in finishing the bouquet. "You only did half the heart. Where's the other half? This heart's broken, incomplete," he notes. "Don't take what I said too seriously," he says. Now, he tells me?

"I'll finish it later. I need to make a phone call about some major orders for today," I say, no longer with the cheery and humming tone I have. Blaine nods as he bounds out of the room before me. I steal one last look at the half done heart-shaped flower bouquet. It is not my intent to shape it like a heart. It is not even Valentine's Day. But because of the happy emotions I have, my creative instincts show up. But with the grave realization Blaine gives me, the bouquet will not be finished. I don't have the heart to complete it anymore.

Blaine is right after all.

Falling in love is the same as being broken-hearted.

Because that is what I am feeling _now_.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter thirteen_

_xox_

"Just do questions four, nine and thirteen for the tonight's work. Your math's actually getting better, Matt," Kurt noted to his 'summer' student. He had been tutoring Matt ever since the boy was confined at home.

Matt smiled. He really hated Math but was glad to hear he was improving. He picked up Raisin, who was curled by his feet. "Are you hungry, Raisin?" he asked as he brushed the fur of the kitten. Raisin meowed.

Kurt eyed the boy and his cat. He knew of the cat's existence but never really got the chance to inquire where the animal came from. He had a hunch though. "Did Sam give Raisin to Mercedes?"

"Nope. He gave her to me," Matt shook his head in response. "I gave her the name Raisin… and you love it, right Raisin?" he hugged the cat gently.

Kurt tapped his chin with a finger. "The way to a woman's heart is to give a kitten to her kid brother. Very smart, that Sam," he amusingly stated. Matt eyed him strangely. Kurt cleared his throat. "Anyway, was Raisin Sam's pet before?" he asked, getting more and more curious about Sam's growing closeness with Mercedes and her brother. Kurt had been very busy these past couple of months, going to some trip out of town or some random late-night dates to know what was happening to his best friend's romantic life.

"Sam said he's just a dog-person. So when he found Raisin, he decided to give her to me."

"Ah, always the noble man, that Sam." he commented with a snort, but not in amusement neither in sarcasm. He only had two to three conversations with the man to actually have a well-established impression on Sam. Mercedes did not talk about him as well. "Do you like Sam?" he asked Matt.

The boy seemed perplexed at the question, or rather the series of questions pertaining to his sister's friend. Matt was still too innocent to read between the lines of Kurt's question. "Well, I like him. He brings donuts. He gave me Raisin. He drove Mercy to the flower farm last week."

The last statement really caught Kurt's full attention. There was a tinge of jealousy forming in his guts. Mercedes had always depended on Kurt for her monthly visits to the flower farm. "He did, didn't he?" he mused more to himself than to the boy in front of him. "I see that he's becoming closer and closer to Mercedes," he stated out loud his thought.

"Is that wrong?" Matt asked, misinterpreting Kurt's last couple of statements. Before, he was only used to seeing one man around in the house. It was just Kurt; and he was the only man Mercedes spent time with. The appearance of Sam actually lessened Kurt's visits. That was the first time Matt realized. "Don't you like Sam?"

Kurt was a little surprised at the question. He was sure he never acted in a way to make Matt think he disliked Sam. He didn't know the guy too well to actually say he liked or disliked him. "Sam's a good man. I'm just being overprotective of your sister."

"Like how she's overprotective when you have a new boyfriend?" Matt asked.

Kurt smiled at his 'matured' innocence. Matt was just like any normal twelve-year old kid who possessed hints of knowledge about childish romances and such. "No, that's different. Mercedes' being protective of the men, not of me," he snickered. His face though turned serious. He was aware of the kindness Sam had shown to Mercedes and to Matt; but he was not sure whether to trust the man. There was nothing wrong with being a little worried for a dear friend. Kurt hoped he was worrying over nothing; and that Mercedes would never get hurt.

His attention was diverted when Mercedes arrived. She was home early, something that indicated she was not in feeling well.

"Good afternoon, my fair lady," Kurt greeted her with his usual cheerful demeanor.

Mercedes only grumbled a low "hello." She walked around the room in a slightly agitated manner. Even the bright smile Kurt flashed for her did not lighten the mood. Blaine's words still stuck in her mind even after a week had passed. Worst of it all, she had not seen or heard from Sam as well. The doubts and confusion forming inside Mercedes was building up and would soon burst.

Then her mind wandered to the night Sam kissed her. It was still magical in all the sense of the gesture. Goosebumps still formed on her arms, and her whole body tingled at the mere thought of his lips. His eyes were still an image of beauty for her.

Is this what falling in love is all about?

Mercedes was so caught up in thinking about Sam she didn't hear what poor Kurt was telling her about. She only snapped back to the world when Kurt began shaking her shoulder. "What?" she snapped before realizing it. "Sorry," she mumbled an apology.

"That's all right. Are you okay though? Ms. Emma told me you haven't been yourself these past few days."

Mercedes looked at the clear worried expression on her best friend's face. She shook her head. "No. I'm just not feeling well. My head's just pounding like crazy." She demonstrated her explanation by rubbing her forehead. It was partly a lie. She was only having a headache for thinking too much. Mercedes walked to Matt's side and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I think I'll just take a short nap just to ease the tension in my-," she started to walk out of the living room but Kurt blocked her way. "Kurt, can you pretty please get out of the way?" she asked though gritted teeth. She was not in the mood to accommodate Kurt's playful antics.

"Nah-uh, Mercedes. Not until you tell me what's wrong," he held up his right hand in front of her. Mercedes folded her arms on her chest. She quirked up a brow and pursed her lips. Kurt knew her too well. "Is this about Sam?"

Mercedes didn't even blink at the question. Kurt really knew her too well! She noticed Matt standing up slowly with Raisin in his arms. The boy knew when it was time for some adult conversation wherein he was not needed. He meekly excused himself with a reason he wanted to watch some TV. Kurt let him pass while still barricading Mercedes from the doorway. Mercedes threw her hands in the air. She would at least explain some things to her best friend; but not all of it. She was still not sure about many of these things herself.

"You're partly correct with your assumption," she said, turning away from him. She plopped down on a reclining seat. "I'm confused about him."

"Confused? Like, you're not sure if he's a friend or more-than-a friend?"

Mercedes eyed him. Kurt had always been the wise one; though at time lack the capacity to show it because of his 'player', as he liked to refer to himself, attitudes. "He's always visiting here, popping in and out of the shop at odd hours, bringing treats to Matt. He's always nice to me. Why? Why would he do that?"

Kurt smiled genuinely. "Maybe because he's a good man who appreciates a good woman such as yourself?"

Expect him to point out such absurd yet logical reasoning! "By 'appreciates'," she demonstrated in air quotes. "Does that mean wanting to be my friend? Just my friend?" she tried to phrase her question to address with a subtle displeasure.

"Maybe, maybe not. He also maybe gauging on your behavior toward him as well. Sam seemed the type of person to jump in at certain situations. The thinking process comes in simultaneously. So, he may be trying to be a little forward in approaching you, but does it in a very subtle way."

Mercedes grasped the meaning of the statement like hanging at the end of a cliff. She was confused but on the other hand was able to interpret some meaning behind Kurt's words. Kurt grabbed a chair and placed it before her and then sat down.

"How would you feel if you find out his only intention is friendship?" his was of serious tone.

She refused to look him straight in the eye. "Then I'll be glad 'cause he's one good friend. Did you know he drove me to the flower farm last week while my regular driver was off to some island with some guy I haven't even met?" She gave Kurt a stern look, finally able to divert the subject to him.

Kurt gave her a sheepish smile. "You've met Dave before. He's the football coach."

"So, now you're into coaches? I thought you didn't wanna date men that you work with?" Mercedes asked, glad the subject of Sam was finally over.

Kurt scratched his head. Mercedes always knew how to turn things around in her favor. A minute ago, Kurt was the one doing the grilling. "Well, eh… heh, heh! He's, um, really nice," he whistled, losing his usual eloquent way of speaking. "But you're changing the subject here, Mercedes." Kurt suddenly burst out laughing. "I never anticipated this day would come, when I am the one giving you advices about love and relationships; and you're the one confused and doubting," he explained, then proceeded to pat Mercedes on the back. "Don't fret, Mercedes. Things will brighten up if you wait patiently." He bid his goodbye. "I have to go now."

"Big date with_ Dave_?"

"Well, um, not really. Dave and I kind of parted ways," he scratched his head while smiling sheepishly.

"Why am I not surprised, Kurt?"

Kurt shrugged. "Hey, you have a problem to think about," he reminded her, just so he wouldn't be subjected to Mercedes' lectures. "Figure out your feelings before you scold me. Bye," he dashed out from the room, not waiting for what Mercedes had to say. Mercedes tended to become a bit violent on him.

Mercedes half-smiled at the retreating figure of Kurt. He had always been there for her: giving her advices during tough times while cheering her up at the same time. She was just lucky to have a friend like him. She stood up from where she sat and walked to the window overlooking her garden. For a florist and a flower-loving person, her garden was bare. Not a single stem of flower could be seen; only unwanted weeds. She had neglected her garden for the most part.

Her thoughts once more wandered back to Sam. No matter how she tried to divert her mind from him, she always seemed to go back and think of him. He owned her heart and mind.

* * *

**AN**: _Let me know what you think what you want to happen what you think will happen. I love getting reviews I kinda need the distraction I'm sorta stuck in bed for the next couple days because of a herniated disk in my back x.x it sucks so yeah I hope you guys like this chapter and story overall (:_


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter fourteen_

_xox_

It was already two in the morning, yet sleep had not arrived. He had been staring at the ceiling, with the fading glowing stars and planets he stuck to it when he was younger; but all he could see was a young woman's face with deep brown eyes. He recalled every conversation they had, trying to discern something, a detail perhaps that would lead him to make a decision. One conversation stuck out the most.

_It was during the first few weeks they had known each other. Sam had begged Mercedes to join him for lunch. Thinking they were just going to grab something to eat from the food court of the City Plaza, she agreed. She was surprised when Sam brought her to the Lakeside Park for a small picnic he had prepared. He observed Mercedes trying to be cheerful and talkative but she succeeded to no avail. He finally gathered the courage to ask what was wrong. Mercedes had tried to dismiss her behavior with an apology but Sam would have none of it. For some unknown reason to it, he wanted to become the good friend and listener to Mercedes. He insisted she talked about it._

_"I'm scared," she finally admitted. "I'm scared of losing Matt," she said through shaky voice. "Everyday he grows weaker, as if his medication was not helping him at all. He tries to hide it with a smile, but I can see the pain in his eyes." Tears started dripping down her cheeks. She brushed it away quickly then gave a small laugh. "Look at me, getting all teary-eyed with you. I'm sorry. I don't wanna bore you with my-," Sam had instantly cut her off._

_"Geez Mercedes. You treat me as if I'm not a friend. Sure, we've only known each other for a few weeks; but I'm telling you, I can be a good friend," he gave her a reassuring smile. _

_Mercedes was silent for a few minutes, gauging whether confiding in him was a good idea. "All night I pray to God not to give me a reason to hate Him. If he takes my brother away from me, I don't think I can hold onto my faith much longer," she finally let out the heaviness in her heart. "If I lose Matt, I lose everything that keeps me going in this world. I… I don't want to be alone," she finally let the tears flood her eyes. "I don't know how to deal with it."_

_Sam was aching to gather her into his arms and engulf her in a tight and comforting embrace. He decided against it because their friendship was still on the budding process. Such move might give Mercedes the wrong impression. Instead, he did what he thought was the logical thing to do. He showered her with comforting words mixed with some painful truth. "A wise woman once told me that there's no one formula in figuring out life," he told her, repeating his mother's words. "You take what you get and make the most of it. I can't tell you Matt will recover from his illness. I'm not in the position to reassure you things will get better. All I can tell you, is that while you have the chance of being with him, enjoy it. Forget what will happen in the next day or next week. Just enjoy having him around." He was unsure how Mercedes would take his little speech._

_Mercedes wiped her tears, smiling brightly at Sam. "You're right. I don't know why I'm even questioning my faith when it's so clear God have given me more time with him." Mercedes closed her eyes, inhaled then exhaled. When she opened her eyes, the sadness in them had vanished. She bravely put a hand on Sam's arm, a gesture of appreciation. "Thanks, Sam. What you said just really snapped me out of my gloominess."_

_"Meh. You make it sound as if I'm some kind of hero," he folded his arms and flared his nose up. Then, he laughed. For some reason he felt like laughing – not because of the situation or anything. He laughed because he felt something tug his heart, making it lighter inside his chest._

_"Maybe you are a hero, maybe you're not. For me, you're a good friend."_

Mercedes' words echoed in his mind. He was a good friend to her. Reminiscing to that day made him forget his dilemma momentarily. Yet as soon as it faded, it hit him like a burning bullet.

_You're given a second chance. Use it wisely._

Stevie's words were haunting him again.

There's really no one formula in figuring out life.

That is what his mother had said. If only life was a simple Math equation… Let 'x' be the second chance… How to figure out what was 'x'?

But once in your life, a person comes along that brings a whole new meaning to how you live your existence.

Once again, his mother's words reverberated in his mind. An illusionary visual of Mercedes appeared in front of him, but faded just as quickly. She did give a whole new meaning to his life.

_I don't want to be alone._

Mercedes' statement resounded in his ear. She would never be alone because she would always have him. But that was only a thought; maybe a promise meant to be broken. How could she have him when he promised himself to Quinn already? He admitted to himself he was falling for Mercedes; but he also loved Quinn once. What if his foolish heart was only mesmerized at how good-hearted and strong a woman Mercedes was? What if his foolish heart really belonged to Quinn? If he decided to break it up with Quinn, wouldn't that be wasting the second chance he had been given?

It felt like he was a man of two beings: one creature battling with another. It was hard to choose because no matter what, somebody was bound to get hurt.

He needed to see Mercedes. He should see Mercedes. It had been an entire week without communication with her. What would he say to her when the moment came? That she would be invited to his and Quinn's wedding; and that hopefully she would provide the necessary flower decorations?

Sam gave out a sardonic laugh. He was not a dumb man not to notice there were something he and Mercedes shared. She might not have fallen in love with him as he had with her, but there was definitely some sparks flying in the dark the night he kissed her.

A kiss was a gesture so misused nowadays. There was a time a kiss was sacred, something people do cherish. There was a time when a kiss was forbidden, unless full sincerity was declared.

But in all aspect of what defined a kiss, the kiss Sam shared with Mercedes was pure, sincere and deep. If only his motives shared the same aspects.

* * *

There were some people bustling in and out of the house when he came down for breakfast, or technically lunch because he woke up at twelve in the afternoon. Apparently, preparations were being made for an upcoming event at the Evans mansion. Mary and Dwight's anniversary celebration was to be held at the same time as Mary's birthday party. The Evans' rarely held social gatherings; but when they do, it was sure to be one of the biggest in town.

Sam yawned as he joined his mother at the garden for some brunch. Mary eyed her son carefully. There were some faint dark circles under his eyes. The boy didn't oversleep; he merely slept late. She handed her son a glass of orange juice. "What time did you sleep last night? Were you out drinking? I was so sure you were home by ten; but why do you look as if you had a late night, huh?" she started bombarding him with questions.

Sam scowled. He hated it when his mother switched to her 'overprotective-mother mode'. He took a bite on some bagel the maid had just placed on the table. He thought about ignoring his mother but she would just press harder. "I was home by nine, actually. Just couldn't sleep last night," he said with nonchalance. No use exposing the details. "So, everything set up for the party next month?"

Mary sighed out loud. "No, not really. We're still on the early stages of planning. I haven't hosted a party in a while now. I'm not sure what to do."

"I have a friend who does flower decorations," he offered, thinking of Mercedes again.

"You do? You think we can hire her services for the day? You know how I love flowers," Mary beamed at her son's offer.

Sam shrugged. "Sure, I'll go talk to her myself." A sudden rush of excitement surged through him. Just last night in his frustrating reflection he was just thinking of seeing Mercedes. Now he had found a reason to talk to her once more. "I'm sure she'll say yes. She's really good; and very thorough and dedicated to her job. She once told me that flowers are jewellerys left behind by goddesses." Sam didn't realize he was talking in such a different, passionate voice about Mercedes.

"This 'friend' of yours, have I met her before?" Mary asked suspiciously. She was aware her son tends to attract women easily.

"Uh, no. You haven't met her. In fact, we've only been friends for two months."

Alarm bells started ringing in Mary's ears. "Sam," she started carefully. "You're engaged to Quinn."

Sam turned to his mother in puzzlement. "I know, mom. Why are you stating the obvious?"

Mary knew her younger son didn't have the skill of discerning details hidden behind words. "I just want to remind you of your loyalty to the woman you asked to dedicate herself to you. Don't be unfair and selfish," she said in riddles.

"Meh. If you're thinking I'm cheating on Quinn with Mercedes, well you're wrong." He was surprised he was able to say the words in a composed, arrogant manner. Yet deep inside, the guilt was unbearable.

"I am not accusing you of something, my dear. Please don't put words into my mouth. All I'm saying is that you should make sure every decision you make, you can take. You're the kind of person who does the thinking process at the same time you're doing it." Mary gave him a dead serious expression. "For once Sam, think before you act. Then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have to lose some sleep over such dilemmas." Mary stood up from her seat, done lecturing her son for the day. "Mercedes? I like that name," was her last statement before going back inside the house.

Sam stared at the retreating figure of his mother in disbelief. It was as if his mother had read his thoughts, felt his feelings, and went through the exact same problem. He was speechless, unable to utter a simple response. Mary had seen through her son.

The day dragged on like a movie in slow motion. He had nothing to do. Strangely, he did not feel like going out or interacting with some friends. He just wanted to say inside the house, watch some TV or shoot some basket in the small court located at the driveway of the mansion. Heck, he even wished Stevie were there so he could at least verbally spar with him. Calling Quinn would do him no good; only add pain to a wounded mind.

Truthfully, there was only one thing he wanted to do; and that was to spend a day with Mercedes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

_If only that was an option._


	15. Chapter 15

_Chapter fifteen_

_xox_

Sitting by the front porch swing was something Mercedes and Kurt loved to do whenever they had nothing to do on Saturdays. They had just finished lunch when the two friends decided to sit outside for some quiet reflection; but obviously Kurt loved to make jokes or simply tell Mercedes his dating stories. Mercedes just loved to listen to Kurt's voice as it often soothed her; but there were just so many things on her mind to actually enjoy her best friend's company at the moment.

"You can be so boring to talk to sometimes, Mercedes," Kurt complained. He had been telling her about his last night's worst date. Mercedes only laughed a little. He was expecting she would laugh out loud, snicker, or even make fun at him. But no, he received a laugh that meant she was only half listening to him. "Lately you've been an alien to me. What happened to you?"

Mercedes eyed him from the corner of her eyes. "Just too many things on my mind."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Cheer up, girl. I think these 'too many things' on your mind involves a certain blonde-haired boy. Am I right with my assessment?"

Mercedes knew perfectly well whom he was talking about. "Who? I don't think I know any person with that description," she said with nonchalance. She would never admit Sam caused her dark mood these past two weeks.

Kurt snorted. "I knew it. You're on a denial stage. It's Sam, isn't it? I'm right, am I not?"

"Sam? Who's that? Oh him! I forgot about him actually," she lied through her teeth. She could never forget about him; not when she replayed his kiss on her mind every night before she drifted off to sleep. "I don't even remember his face."

"Whatever, Mercedes." Kurt laughed. He saw the way Mercedes perked up when she heard Sam's name mentioned. He knew a person in-love because he knew the feeling perfectly well. After all, Kurt was always in love. "You love him, don't you?" he poked Mercedes on her side. "My best friend's in love. In love. In love. In love!" he hummed out, teasing Mercedes. He sensed she was getting agitated. He teased her further. "Ooh. Mercedes and Sam sitting on a tree. K-I-S-S-I-NG!" Kurt hooted, knowing all too well Mercedes was soon to explode from annoyance.

Mercedes' eyes narrowed. She hated being teased. "Mercedes and Kurt sitting on a swing. K-I-C-K-I-N-G!" she hissed in sarcasm. "That's what I would do to ya if ya don't stop your childish nonsense," she added a threat. Kurt only laughed, further making Mercedes fume in anger.

He wrapped an arm around Mercedes, pulling her more to him. "You know, Lady Mercedes, you should try to be in touch with your femininity more. Flirt a little. Show a little cleavage. Pucker up your lips more. Maybe, just maybe, Sam would confess his feelings for you."

Mercedes glared at him. She found herself disliking the direction the conversation was heading. Kurt simply knew how to irk her by revealing her truths within. For that, she was more annoyed at him. "Confess his feelings? I highly doubt him. And," she gave him an austere expression. "Not because you've dated hundreds of women made you an expert on them!"

"And not because you're a woman made you an expert on one as well," Kurt retorted, knowing too well Mercedes would not be able to reply to it.

Mercedes was unable to think of a comeback. Kurt was right on his assessment. Instead, she pinched him for lack of a sarcastic retort or a derogatory insult. Kurt squirmed at the slight pain. He hated it when his best friend diverted to her violent self.

"This is what I mean. You're a beautiful woman yet you get very scary and beastly. It's no wonder why not many guys approach you. Now I'm beginning to oppose my first judgment that Sam likes you at all." The comment finally put Mercedes' irritation level to the boiling point. Kurt received the deadliest glare. He cowered a bit, nervously anticipating the hard hit courtesy of Mercedes. He sensed she started to raise her hand, pausing a moment to think which better way to show him her displeasure. It was a good thing his sight caught a welcoming presence. "Hey! Dog-boy's here!" he exclaimed, using the nickname (the one Matt referred to when they discussed about Kirara) he fondly called the guy.

Instantly, Mercedes jerked her head towards the direction where Kurt was staring. She couldn't help but smile as she saw Sam's car by the driveway.

"Don't call him that!" she hit him playfully on the chest, eyes focused on the figure stepping out of the car.

Sam finally came for a visit. Her heart somersaulted.

* * *

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he caught sight of Mercedes and Kurt sitting together. Kurt had his arms around Mercedes, while she seemed comfortable within his embrace albeit the deadly passionate look she was giving Kurt. The whole scene screamed nothing but intimacy. Sam clenched his fist. He noticed Kurt gesturing to his direction, as if alerting Mercedes to look his way. She did; and she smiled. This prompted Sam to get out of his car despite his earlier hesitation.

He waited for another week to go see her. It had been already two weeks since they last saw each other. The two weeks were brutal for him. He desired to be around Mercedes' presence, whether she offered friendship or more than that. But Sam knew he had to stay away from her. He would soon be a married man. He shouldn't start to develop a relationship with Mercedes, or any other woman for that matter, even though it would only be friendship. Yet, Sam knew the longer he stayed away from Mercedes, the deeper he fell in love with her. He mentally shook his head, and his self as well to get out of such dangerous and foolish thoughts. He waved a hand at both Mercedes and Kurt.

Mercedes stood up from the swing the moment Sam approached. She faintly heard a small chuckle escape from Kurt's lips. She was aware of what was going through Kurt's mind at the moment. He also stood up behind Mercedes, ready to make silly side comments if the situation ever became awkward.

"Am I interrupting?" Sam said.

"No. Oh, no. Heck, no. Kurt and I were just passing time." Mercedes could only hope she didn't sound all too jumpy and excited. Seeing Sam for the first time in two weeks somewhat lifted up her spirits. "Would you like to come in for something to drink or eat?" she eagerly offered. God, she missed seeing him.

Sam shook his head. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to ask you something personal and business at the same time. My mother requires some flower arrangement on her upcoming party. I thought about you. I'm hoping you'd take up the offer."

Mercedes hid the disappointment in her facial expression. It was only evident in her eyes. She thought he came by to visit her, not employ her services. "Sure. When's the party?"

"Next month. I'm also here to invite you as a guest. You too, man," he turned to Kurt.

"Oh, don't worry about me," Kurt shook his head. He figured Sam was just inviting him for the sake of not being impolite.

"You can be her escort," Sam answered in a rather rushed tone. "I'll send both your invitations when everything is finalized." He turned to Mercedes. "Also, here's the address to where the party is going to be held, which is my mom and dad's house. My mom asked if you could start discussing and planning this Monday?"

Mercedes took the small piece of paper he was handing her. He seemed to rush his statements, as if he was itching to leave. "That would be fine. What time would your mother prefer for me to get at this location?" she asked, turning her voice into a business tone.

"During lunchtime would be fine."

Mercedes only nodded. The brightness in her spirit began to diminish. Why was Sam treating her as if a stranger?

"Well, I should get going. Thanks, Mercedes, for accepting. I'll see you two around at the party," he said, bidding his goodbye. Within minutes he was back in his car and was gone. He was in a hurry - in a hurry to get away from Mercedes' powerful charisma. He also wanted to get away from the jealousy forming in him as he watched the intimate proximity between Kurt and Mercedes. Up until the very moment, Sam wasn't sure what was Kurt's real relationship to Mercedes. She claimed he was her very best friend. She even referred to Kurt as her soul mate. Sam didn't know where Kurt stood in Mercedes' life. Frankly, as much as it pained him to say, he would rather prefer if Mercedes ended up with Kurt. At least that way, Mercedes would not feel any pain and heartache. Sam, though he knew little about the other man, was aware Kurt held Mercedes' feelings with delicate hands. He would not let Mercedes suffer in any other way. That was all Sam could wish for the woman he felt he fell in love with.

He drove away with heaviness in his chest.

* * *

Mercedes finally showed the pained look on her face. Kurt understood it so he decided not to ask. He simply patted Mercedes on the back.

"Don't worry, Lady Mercedes. Things would be alright in the very end."

Mercedes looked at him, able to control the tears threatening to fall. She didn't want to cry over someone who didn't reciprocate the same feelings she had. "Why would I be worried? I've got another client interested in my services. From the looks of it, this would make good money," she said in a composed manner.

Kurt sighed out loud. His best friend was good at hiding her feelings from him. In fact she was too good that Kurt made sure to read between the lines to understand her. He was able to find away how to read Mercedes' feelings when in hiding. He mastered how to read her. "You're right. You're not worried. You're just hurt at the moment because you feel like he had just brushed you aside. He simply showed up to tell you he needed your services and then left without even a romantic word for you."

Mercedes frowned at him. "And your point is?" she was still in denial of her true feelings. After all, this was all too new for her.

Kurt shook his head, giving up. There was no use forcing Mercedes to reveal her true emotions. "I'm going home. Call me if you decided to confess how you truly feel. Because, I think, if you ever reveal what's inside your heart, you'd become less cranky and gloomy," he said walking away from her. He was frustrated at Mercedes for keeping everything inside her.

She watched him go and turned to his house's direction. As much as she wanted to share everything to Kurt, Mercedes was still not ready. Especially now that she realized Sam didn't even share the same feelings she had for him.

Then why did he kiss her that night?

Was that simply done out-of-instinct? Surely it wasn't how Sam said his goodbyes. So why did he kiss her?

Mercedes fought the urge to cry out of frustration, hurt and confusion.

Yet, she still felt hope.

Hope that maybe he could one day reciprocate the same feelings she had for him.

Hope that maybe things would turn out just as she dreamed of it.

Mercedes stomped inside the house. She hated acting like a sick love-forlorn woman she was becoming.

* * *

**AN**: Let the Sam hate continue. Also for the record if you guys haven't already figured it out Sam has horrible gaydar. Review time. I recently got a lot more readers adding this story to their favs and alerts I would like to hear what you guys think about this story it helps me get better as an author knowing what you guys like and dislike about this story so far its Sam. Lol anyways review time! (:


	16. Chapter 16

_Chapter sixteen._

_xox_

"Are you sure we have the right address?" Blaine asked for the millionth time. He was just a bit shell-shocked after learning the address of their new client, Mary Evans, Sam Evans's mother.

Redbrook Valley Boulevard was a subdivision for the well-to-do people. It was a quiet neighborhood about forty-five minutes outside the city. Many referred to it as the sanctuary of the rich people.

"4080!" Mercedes nearly screamed as she spotted the number sign. "That's the house," she told Blaine, checking the piece of paper she was holding.

Blaine peered in closer from the driver's seat. "More like a mansion, baby. Look at those big gates. I bet there's a security camera and intercom just outside of those," he said all knowingly as he slowly stirred the wheel. He was right. Before anyone passed the gigantic, steel gates, one had to go through security check-up. "Geez. These people here are rich. First we have to go through security to be able to get inside the subdivision. Then this?"

Mercedes kept quiet. She was a bit of a nerve-wreck since the previous day. Mary Evans contacted her at the shop and 'formally' acquired her services. Sam's mother asked if they could immediately start with the planning and preparations. She patiently watched as Blaine supplied the necessary information to the security (through the intercom). Within minutes, the gate was automatically opened.

"Someday, I'm gonna get me this kind of house," Blaine snickered, as the car carefully went around the huge driveway. "Who knows, some rich man might whisk me away anytime soon. You think this Sam boy toy of yours has an older brother or something'?"

Mercedes glared at him. "He's not my boy-toy… whatever you mean by that. Plus, I should kindly ask you to behave, okay?"

"I'm always behaved. Just watch me," Blaine winked at her as he parked the car.

A woman, probably in her late-fifties, was already waiting for them at the last step of the entryway. She gave them a warm and hearty smile as the two florists stepped out of the car. "Hello. Mercedes Jones?"

Mercedes nodded, walking towards the approaching woman. She extended a hand. "Good morning, Mrs. Evans. This is my assistant, Blaine Anderson."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. Please, just call me Mary," she gently shook the extended hand of both.

Blaine waved a hand in the air, aware that his clothing hid his true personality. "Please, my lovely Ms. Mary. I'm a Miss Anderson. All my dresses are in the laundry so I have to wear such 'manly'," he paused, rolling his eyes as he tugged at his polo shirt. "Clothing. But, you can just call me Blaine too," he winked at her in a flirty and girlish manner which prompted laughter from Mary.

"It's Blaine, then. Oh," she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Forgive my manner. Come inside you two. We'll have lunch before we discuss business."

The moment the two stepped inside the house, both simply couldn't ignore the fact of how beautiful the place was. The house, or mansion as Blaine referred to it, had a comfortable, warm and homey feeling to it. The decors were simple but exuded elegance. Mercedes couldn't help marvel at the beauty of it all. Blaine's eyes darted all around.

"My, my. Ms. Mary, what a lovely castle you have here," he gushed as his gaze lingered on a small painting of an oriental castle by a waterfall.

Mary gave them a small laugh. "Thank you. This house had been in the family ever since. A little too big, I must admit, now that my two boys have left home."

"So… Sam does have a brother!" exclaimed Blaine, momentarily forgetting to behave. "He's a cutie, that son of yours." Mercedes wanted to crawl away.

Mary couldn't help but giggle. Blaine was an amusing individual after all. "A cutie you say? You think so too, Ms. Jones?" she asked in a harmless way, yet Mary somehow wanted to find out something.

Mercedes didn't know how to respond to that. Was there a hidden meaning behind the statement; or was it said in a neutral way. "Please, just call me Mercedes," was her only answer.

Soon, they were led to the garden where Mary usually had her breakfast and lunch especially if the weather was beautiful. Blaine instantly shed off any inhibitions as he found it easy to chat with Mary, while Mercedes, on the other hand, remained silent and only talked if addressed. Throughout of it all, Mercedes was able to observe the mother of the man she fell in love with. Mary, for the most part, was very much unlike Sam. The woman exuded gentleness and demureness. She was very feminine and prim. Her ways were soft and delicate.

"Mercedes, my dear," Mary turned to her snapping her back to reality. "How did you and Sam meet?"

Mercedes didn't know where to start. She could say at the hospital; but could she leave the part of her daily trips in his room during his state of unconsciousness? Then a new kind of realization hit her. Mary, as she suddenly remembered, was the woman who was crying at the waiting room. There were no words exchanged between the two of them, only a smile of encouragement and of hope.

At the same time, as Mary stared at her, waiting for an answer, she also realized the familiarity of Mercedes' face. Yet, she could not place Mercedes in her memory. Mary was positive though that she had seen Mercedes before; she was just not sure when and where. Perhaps she would find the time to ask her, when the two were more acquainted, but not at the moment. Maybe it would be best to ask Sam instead.

Blaine chose to answer for her. "They met at the City Plaza, where boss here hit Sam on the head. Since then, Sam keeps coming by the shop and asking boss to lunch. I think it was love at first sight," he said dreamily. Mercedes kicked him from under the table. "Ow. Don't kick me!" he hissed but loud enough for other people to hear.

Mary only laughed. If she was having some alarming thoughts she hid it very well. It was not her place to question Mercedes for what her assistant had just said. Sam should be the one she would question. It was time to change the subject. "So, what kind of flowers would be best to use for such an occasion?"

Alas, a change of subject! Mercedes immediately beamed. She just loved talking about flowers, and giving people advices regarding them. "Well, it really depends whether there's a particular type you would want. Also, it would suit best if you already have a motif for the party. Many simply based their motifs though on their favorite flower."

"Hmm… Actually, I don't have a motif at the moment. I was so busy thinking of how many guests or what kinds of food to serve." Mary gave the two a sheepish look. "In all honesty, my dears, I haven't hosted a party in nearly five years."

"Then, Madam! Mercedes here may be a florist but she's also a good party planner," Blaine chimed in. he was clapping his hands, proud to promote Mercedes' talents.

Mary turned to Mercedes. "Then maybe you could also be my party planner, Mercedes. I haven't had time to contact one as of yet. As I've told Sam, I'm still on the early stages of planning. Nothing major yet."

Mercedes could only nod. Her job as a florist usually involved with some major party planning that was why she took a one-year course from a community college to learn the basics. It helped her become a successful florist, and the benefits were piling up at the moment. The discussion and planning ensued once more. Blaine and Mercedes were soon led to the living room. Mercedes observed Mary was getting more and more excited as she soon started mentioning the particular kinds of flowers to use. It turned out she and Sam's mother had the same admiration to flowers. They got along perfectly well.

The three seemed to have forgotten the time as it passed by quickly but the progress of the planning was excellent. The casual chatter though was soon disrupted by the arrival of Mary's eldest son, much to Blaine's drooling.

"What a hottie!" Blaine hissed in Mercedes' ear while Mary went on to greet her son. Mercedes simply nudged him on the side. "You already have Sam. This one's mine!" he whispered once more adding a little girlish giggle. Mercedes only mouthed the word 'behave' much to Blaine's chagrin.

"Stevie, sweetie, these are my two lovely party planners. Blaine and Mercedes, this is my eldest son, Stevie," Mary pulled Stevie to introduce the two.

Mercedes and Blaine immediately stood up from their seats and muttered a 'good afternoon'. The newcomer only gave them a slight nod in acknowledgement. Sam had once mentioned his brother to Mercedes. She was also aware of Sam's apparent dislike to his older brother. He once claimed the guy, this Stevie, was cold, aloof, unemotional, and downright dangerous. Mercedes felt the chills when Sam's brother pierced him with golden eyes. It was the same eyes like Sam's but it was more intense. Mercedes was able to understand why Sam disliked his brother. She turned her eyes away from his scrutinizing gaze.

"So… you're Sam's brother?" Blaine asked the obvious as he advanced towards the tall man. Mercedes but her lip, tugging at his shirt. Blaine still managed to make his way towards Stevie. He extended a hand. "Nice to meet you. I must say, you're better looking than Sam," he said in a very high-pitched voice.

Stevie glared at the extended hand but shook it the moment he felt his mother gently jabbed him at the side. He turned to his mother. "You have a doctor's appointment. Dad told me to pick you up."

Mary clamped a hand on her mouth. "Oh my. How time flies. Sam's supposed to drive me there, though."

Mercedes noticed Stevie smirking. "The fool is stuck at work, dad said."

Mary sighed. "Very well." She walked towards Mercedes. "My dear. It's a mistake on my part that I forgot I have an appointment at five. I'm so sorry. Could the two of you come by again for lunch tomorrow?" she asked.

Mercedes nodded. Whatever the client asked, she should agree. "Of course, Mrs. Evans. We should also be going now," she gave the same smile to Sam's mother. In her surprise, Mary hugged her gently then hugged Blaine.

"I'm so glad. I'll see the two of you to the door." She turned to Stevie. "You should eat first before we go. Have the cook fix you something."

Stevie only nodded. He didn't even give Mercedes and Blaine, much to his disappointment, one look.

Once back inside Blaine's car, "Sam's brother… He may the most handsomest guy I've ever seen but he's stone cold. No amount of warmness in him." Blaine said.

Mercedes but he didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I much prefer a guy like Sam. So if you don't want him, can I have him?" he asked with a wink.

Mercedes only glared at him. In her mind, only she could have Sam. She snorted out loud, prompting Blaine to inspect her curiously. She ignored him. 'If only he could be mine,' she thought to herself.

* * *

Stevie only drank a cup of black coffee. What was mind boggling to him was the presence of the young woman, or the party planner as his mother introduced, inside his childhood home.

If memory served right, she was the exact same woman whose brother had a room next to Sam's at the hospital (back when Sam was still on a coma). She was the woman who constantly 'visited' his brother, as Stevie had found out.

Now, the question would be why was she the party planner? Was it all a coincidence? Was she Sam's stalker or simply someone out to take on Sam for revenge or something?

Mary entered the room, distracting his thoughts. She smiled brightly at her son. There was something behind that smile; and Stevie had seen it. He looked at her as if asking 'what'. Mary shrugged. "Lately, you've been here in the city. I mean, aren't you supposed to go back to the country? She just kept on asking questions.

He instantly changed the subject. "The woman, that Mercedes, she seemed familiar."

Mary furrowed her brows, nodding a bit. "I know. The longer I looked at her, the more I feel I've seen her before." Stevie arched a brow. "She's Sam's friend; but I'm sure we haven't been introduced by Sam before. Your brother only referred her to me for flower arrangements."

Stevie smirked. "Perhaps because she frequently visited Sam at the hospital when he was in a coma."

"What?"

"I've seen her in the hospital before. I inquired from the nurses' station. She had a sick brother whose room was right beside the idiot's," Stevie slight gave a shrug.

Mary, for the moment, let go of Stevie's rude referral to his brother. She was more concerned with what she was hearing. "I hope Sam's not cheating on Quinn." Mary let her thoughts out loud. She vaguely recalled Blaine said Sam met Mercedes at the City Plaza. It was love at first sight, Blaine said.

"If he is, I wouldn't be surprised. Both Quinn and Sam are immature, silly fools."

"Stevie!" Mary gave him a slight warning. "I will have another talk with your brother. We couldn't possibly announce his engagement to Quinn at the party if he was feeling unsure about his feelings." Mary's thoughts wandered to the image of Mercedes. She seemed like a nice, strong-minded girl who wouldn't subject herself to such act (such as having a relationship with a committed man). Unless…

Unless Sam was fooling Mercedes as well.

"Oh dear God," Mary mumbled. She would surely have another long, heart-to-heart with her youngest son. Mary wouldn't let Sam hurt two girls, while on the process of hurting himself as well.

"You will be late for your appointment," Stevie's monotone voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Mary could only nod.

* * *

**AN**: Since there was no Sam in this chapter there shouldn't be any Sam hate right? right?! Don't give up on Sam and Mercedes just yet guys it's getting closer to him finally confessing his feelings just hold out a little longer I'm not going to Ryan Murphy you guys. xoxox


	17. Chapter 17

_Chapter seventeen_

_xox_

Exhaustion was all he could think about. He was downright tired. Time passed him by in the office like an oil truck striking a car in slow motion. Sam paused, cursing himself at the analogy he just used to describe his tiredness. His accident was painful to make a mockery of. He shook his head to clear his mind. A maid let him in. The house was already silent, most of its occupants were probably settling in their beds. Good, that meant his mother would not be there to greet him with a lecture about being late. (Well, he had good and logical reasons though. Work kept him.)

Wrong. When he was about to quietly climb up the stairs, someone called out to him.

Sam scowled. Was his mother waiting for him the whole time? It was ridiculous. "It's already twelve, mom. Why aren't you asleep?"

Mary met him with a smile. "I couldn't sleep."

"You couldn't sleep, or you just don't wanna without me home yet?"

"The same thing, sweetie. How was work?"

Sam eyed his mother. There was something behind the smile she was giving him. Mary didn't just wait for him to get home to ask about his work. "Tiring. What's new!" he answered half-heartedly. He was too busy figuring out what he had done wrong. "Come on, mom. Just spit it out!"

"What? What do you mean?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he followed his mother to the kitchen. He finally realized he was starving. His last meal was only a sandwich; and knowing his appetite, his stomach must be growling mad at the moment. "You won't be waiting for me unless it's really something important." That was true. If it were some minor scoldings, Mary would just simply wait it out the next day.

"I'm hurt, sweetie, by what you're implying. Can't a mother wait for her son to get home safely to prepare him something?" She made a playful stab at her chest. "Want me to fix you a sandwich?" Sam nodded, but still looking suspiciously at his mother. He watched his mother carefully as she, in a very cheerful way, fixed him a ham sandwich. She set the plate in front of Sam then showed him a box full of donuts. "I also got you your favourites," she said with a wink.

Now, Sam was completely sceptical. His stomach was grumbling from the sight of the Chocolate Glaze and the Walnut Crunch; but those can wait. He narrowed his eyes directly to stare at his mother. "Now, mom. What's wrong? What have I done now? What are you gonna lecture me about this time?"

"Whatever do you mean, my love?" Mary replied innocently. Her son was giving her a doubtful look. She sighed out loud, resigned to finally interrogate Sam. "Eat, while we talk. You'll die of drooling for that donut," she said, taking a seat across from him. She let Sam had at least three bites from his sandwich and then eat a whole donut in less than two minutes. All she could hope for was Sam will be able to be attentive. She cleared her throat, prompting the young man to stare. "I met Mercedes today. Lovely woman," she began. Immediately, she noticed Sam stopped eating and chewing. For a moment she was afraid he was choking.

"I called her yesterday and set up an appointment for this morning. We were able to start with the planning. She would also be my party planner," she continued, aware Sam had no idea what to say. "How long has she been your friend again?"

Sam felt a piece of the tomato was stuck in his throat. Mercedes? Today? Met his mom? He was aware he referred Mercedes' flower shop to his mother. So why was he so surprised to hear it?

"Long enough for me to know she's very qualified in what she does," he replied, hoping his voice did not squeak. He would play it coolly.

Anyway, what had he done wrong? 'Fool', he could hear his conscience curse at him. 'You fell in love with her, that was what's wrong.' Oh. Yeah. "Okay, a month? Two months? I'm not sure. We met right after I had the accident."

"I see," Mary said with a nod. Soon she would have to be blatantly honest with him. The question, when would be the right moment? "Blaine, such a lovely person, was with her too," she added.

Sam's face fell. The short time he had known Blaine, man was as blunt as a blunt person could be. Blaine was already throwing hints to Sam and Mercedes about the two being perfectly fit for each other. He might have, either because of a slip-of-the-tongue or pure intentions, mentioned to Mary about his own observations. If he did, then that might spell trouble for Sam. "He was, huh," was all he said as he concentrated on finishing his sandwich.

"Well, we really discussed a lot. I'm very thankful for those two. I was so lost when it comes to hosting party of my own as it turns out. Imagine all the chairs I ordered don't fit with the motif I wanted. I mean green chairs? Why would I want green chairs? I detest the color green," she rolled her eyes. She was aware that Sam was aware she was stalling to get to the point of the whole conversation.

Sam wanted to roll his eyes at his mom to get to the point. Just to get the whole thing over with. He was really not sure where the conversation was heading. Okay, he had a slight idea but he was hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. He simply munched on his third donut.

"Stevie then came by to remind me of my appointment and to drive me there. Which you were supposed to do, but you were too busy with your work to even tell me," she glared at Sam. "But that was beside the point. But your brother told me something that surprised me."

"Geez, the idiot finally said something surprising?" Sam rolled his eyes in sarcasm.

Mary ignored the rude comment. "Anyway, he told me Mercedes seemed very familiar. Ironic, cause she's familiar to me too."

"Well, maybe because Stevie also frequent at the City Plaza where Mercedes works," he stated as a matter-of-factly.

Mary gave him a mysterious smile mixed with some mischief. "No. He said it was perhaps Mercedes was the one who always visited you at the hospital. So, how can you too had known each other after your, um, accident?" The last statement was uttered in almost a whisper.

This stopped Sam from enjoying a fourth donut. "Visit me? At the hospital?" Suddenly, those questions about why he felt he had known Mercedes (before they actually met) all came back. The first few days they had known each other, Sam was constantly asking Mercedes why she was so familiar, recognizable actually, to him. It was especially when she talked, Sam would soon drown in a moment of confusion, like he knew Mercedes all along.

"The thing was, your brother's and Blaine's account, and yours, of how you and Mercedes met simply don't match. Blaine said Mercedes accidentally hit you on the head?"

Sam nodded. He was still trying to figure out all these things. In fact, Mercedes never explained to him why she had hit him; and he knew it was no accident.

"Then Blaine said it was like," Mary paused. She should just say it bluntly. "He said you and Mercedes had like, well, it was like…" she was stammering. "It was like love at first sight!"

Sam stopped himself from agreeing. "Blaine's a dreamer. Don't believe everything he says. He once told me he was a princess trapped in a man's body to be rescued by his prince on a motorcycle!"

Mary laughed. She hadn't expected an individual like Blaine to say that; but Sam was trying to change the subject. "Blaine said it in a very sincere manner, Sam," she said slowly.

"What are you trying to get at, mom?"

"Sam, honey, tell me," Mary turned gravely serious. "Are you in love with Mercedes?"

Sam gave himself a mental pat in the head for not choking at the question. His face remained calm.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I am engaged to Quinn."

"But you're having doubts or confusion? Mercedes is a wonderful individual. Does she know you're engaged to Quinn?"

"She will, at the party, when Quinn and I formally announce it."

Mary sighed. Somehow she was still unconvinced. "Sam, if you're having trouble in dealing with your feelings and all, I'm here for you. You can tell me everything."

"Mom, Quinn and I are getting married. Why are you questioning that? Just because I made friends with Mercedes in such a short time doesn't mean I'm going back against my decision," Sam said with a determined look. He thought about what his brother had said a long time ago. "I was given a second chance in life. I am not going to waste that. I'm here to set things right once and for all."

His second chance, as he figured out, was to make things right with Quinn. In their relationship, Sam had neglected the woman who loved him dearly. He constantly contacted and saw Santana while Quinn was out on her small trips. He dated other women when he and Quinn where having fights. He was always too harsh when he talked to her. He always initiated an argument.

This time, he would set things right.

He did love Quinn. He could still continue to love her… he hoped. Maybe Mercedes was just there to remind him of his old self: the selfish bastard who just wanted to be loved and accepted by everyone. Maybe Quinn was really the right person for him. Mercedes was just someone who made his heart beat faster, his insides churn at the beautiful sight of her, his nerves calmed down, his smile broaden. That was all Mercedes did to him. He easily fell in love with her.

Maybe, just maybe, he could fell out of love for her just as easy.

"And about Mercedes, for heaven's sake, mom. She has a boyfriend. Kurt. I invited him to the party as well. I'll introduce him to you," he said hastily. The mere mention of Kurt as Mercedes' boyfriend grated his nerve with jealousy. It hurt. "I could not believe you doubt me," he said in almost an angry mutter to his mother.

Mary looked down. "I'm sorry, my son. I was just concerned. I don't want you trapped in something because of wrong decision-making."

"Well, I'm a grown man who knows what he's doing. Quinn is my fiancée, always was and always will be," he said in a hard voice.

He knew he was doing the right thing.

His second chance will simply not go to waste.

He went to bed with heavy mind, as always. But this time the load was unbearable. All those things he said, some were lies some were partial truths, were a deadly weight on him. Matters of the heart were never an easy task.


	18. Chapter 18

_Chapter eighteen_

_xox_

Hope. It resounded like two cymbals banged together. The harder the banging was, the louder it was. The cymbals resonated the hope building inside her.

The puzzling thought to this analysis was where was she getting all this hope? Perhaps it was her experience in love, or lack thereof, that she was still hopeful. She daydreamed. She fantasized. She still replayed that little kiss like a child watching a favorite film.

If only she could strangle Sam for the trouble he was causing her, oh, how she would love to strangle him!

Mercedes stared at her reflection once again. She was not a woman of vanity. She rarely cared how she appeared to others. But right at the moment, she wished she was more beautiful or even a distant appealing. Maybe, just maybe, Sam might have fallen madly, deeply in love with her.

She shut her eyes tight. She hated the way she was thinking; it was not like her. But, wasn't that how love worked? Changing people's perspectives in life?

Once again she was left to ponder. Love: a word often used, its meaning had simply became obsolete. People used it in their everyday lives, unaware of the depth of its definition. Well to Mercedes, love meant a lot.

Love meant taking responsibility at a young age for a brother's sake. Love meant being a mother and a father, and a decent sibling, all at the same time. Love meant looking out for a friend who seemed to fail in every relationship he had. Love meant giving up everything for a brother's illness, including own happiness to ensure the happiness of the brother. Love meant loving, even if the person did not reciprocate.

Love meant hoping.

Tears dribbled down her cheeks. Somewhere between the constant visits at the shop and at home, the kindness showed to Matt, and the simple conversations they had, Mercedes fell in love with Sam. It was that kind of love, budding and blooming, as sincere as a vow spoken out loud.

Mercedes smiled then chuckled. Was she going crazy? She wiped the tears in her eyes, still staring at the mirror. She felt good enough, and decent, to show herself to the world – or better yet, to show her face at the party hosted by Sam's mother.

She smoothed the mocha-colored dressed she had on. With a small dab of perfume and a final glance at the mirror, she headed out the room to meet the waiting Kurt downstairs. Tonight she would see Sam; and perhaps she might be able to gather the courage to tell him how she felt. She paused halfway out her room.

Confessed her feelings to Sam? Would that be advisable? Was that decent or moral – for a girl to tell the guy first? As if a breeze of confidence passed through her, Mercedes (partially) decided to end the hurting once and for all.

She would tell him, or give him a hint. (Sam's not that dumb!) What had she got to lose? If ever he rejected her, she would just be crushed into tiny pieces; but she would move on. She would rather be devastated because of rejection than devastated due to regret. This made her feel anxious and excited all at the same time. What if Sam was the type of guy who was just embarrassed to admit his feelings? What if it turned out that Sam did feel something deeper than friendship for Mercedes?

Once again, she was hoping. That was what love was all about… hoping.

Kurt met her at the bottom of the stairs. He gave her a nod of approval. He couldn't help snort a bit. Rarely could one see Mercedes looking all glamorous and girly.

"So… What do you think?" Mercedes asked him, knowing Kurt was the perfect man to criticize a girl's appearance.

"Hmm. I would say you look okay enough to be my date for the evening. I mean I'd rather go out with Serena for tonight but you'd do fine," he stated in an overdramatic tone.

Mercedes took a jab at him on his stomach. "Well. Nobody's forcing you to go to the party."

"So you could all have the fun? Anyway, my Lady Mercedes, I'll be there for moral support when dog-boy finally confesses his feelings for ya!" he winked. His statements made Mercedes speechless and beet red as a tomato.

"Let's just go so we wouldn't be late!" Mercedes rolled her eyes. The two made their quick goodbyes to both Matt and Emma, who were marveling at the stunning appearance of Mercedes. The woman in flattery just blushed.

Mercedes was nervous – an understatement considering the sweat in her palms kept pouring out. Her heartbeat was a tad faster than the ticking of the second-hand of the clock. They left a little early because a forty-five minute drive to the suburbs would take at least an hour due to Kurt's driving skills. Good thing, though, Mercedes had time to pacify her nerves. Kurt's constant chatter helped a lot.

Yet by the time they neared the doorway of the rich neighborhood, Mercedes' nerves began to vibrate once more.

"Will you stop it?"

"What?" she gave Kurt a puzzled look.

"That- that thing you always do, whenever you're nervous or something," he answered without taking his eyes off the road. They were nearing the Evans' house. "You keep fidgeting with your hands. It tends to get annoying!"

Mercedes calmed down a bit - at least she clasped her hands tight to keep them from doing anything. "This is actually my first high-class party," she admitted to Kurt. In fact, it was probably her first party in years. She rarely went out of the house, if not for work and necessary errands to run. "What about you?" she needed to start another nonsensical conversation with her best friend, to simply forget about her worries.

"Me? Hmm, lemme see. No. Remember Sebastian, the guy I used to date in college? He was a rich guy and he always made me go to his rich friends' parties. I enjoyed it, I'm telling ya."

"Sebastian? I didn't know he was rich!"

"Yeah, very rich," he corrected Mercedes. "Last time I heard, He was with some business guy, I kinda wish we had worked things out then maybe I wouldn't be a lowly school teacher." Kurt clicked his tongue. He received a slight hit from Mercedes. "Here we are! 4080, right? Wow, big house!"

For a few minutes, between entering the gate and Kurt handing keys to a valet, Mercedes was in a daze. She was excited, nervous and anxious. It felt as if something whimsical, for lack of better word, will happen tonight. Kurt offered him an arm. "Shall we?" Mercedes could only nod.

* * *

It was happening again. He was biting his nails. He had the urge to howl out of frustration. He scratched his head. Perhaps this was not the time to do such things – not with all the people in their fancy clothes and big, white smiles around. Yet he felt like being a savage for once, so he could escape all these fake genuineness of people around him.

To sum it all, Sam was not having the grandest time at his mother's birthday party (as well as his parents' wedding anniversary).

He stood alone at one side of the garden, quietly sipping his champagne, simply watching the festivity unfolding in front of him. He waited impatiently for anyone he could simply converse with. His friends were running a little late in their arrival. (Of course, they have to be there by the time Sam made the big announcement.) Speaking of big announcements, the other person involved in it was still missing-in-action. Apparently, Quinn had still not arrived. There was also one person he had not laid eyes on: his older brother. Funny, Stevie was never late in his entire existence.

'Well, the idiot must've gotten scared of all the guests," he mentally snickered. He remembered, at Stevie's engagement party months ago, the guy was beyond the level of boredom and annoyance. What more in a party like this? He chuckled, proud to at least amuse himself though at his brother's expense. He gulped down the last drop of his drink before grabbing another champagne glass. Maybe he should have something stronger, like vodka or tequila. God-knows he needed it by the time he and Quinn would announce their-.

He thought about Mercedes. She would be there, if ever she showed up. How would she react? Well, she'd probably applaud, glad for her Sam's 'happiness', and smile her sweet smile. She might not even be affected at all. He had thought about confessing his feelings for her. God-knows how many times he considered going to her house and telling her everything, so he could get the clearest picture of his second life. What use could that be though? She had a boyfriend; and he had the duty to straighten things out for a second chance in life.

He caught sight of two individuals making their way to the centre of the garden where Mary and Dwight were standing. He couldn't help but squeezed his eyes shut then opened them to have a better focus.

Immediately he strode over to the same direction Stevie and the woman took. Once he got there, he shared the same speechless and stunned countenance his parents had. Sam was too bewildered to think of an insulting remark.

"Mother, Father, this is Holly," he heard Stevie introduce the woman. She possessed the features of an independent, strong woman with a warrior-persona in her, like Mercedes'. Her exterior features were not hard to look at. In fact, the longer Sam stared at the said Holly, the longer he could appreciate her beauty. But, she was surely someone his brother would not be interested.

Holly shook both the extended hands of Mary and Dwight, both too kind to ignore the woman despite their questioning glares at their older son. She turned to Sam. "You must be Sam," she extended a hand much to his surprise.

Sam accepted the hand, already recovered from some kind of an initial shock. "Well, my brother's a little on the dumb side 'cause he forgot to introduce me," he threw Stevie a challenging look.

"On the contrary, I really intended to ignore you," was the frigid retort.

Mary hushed the two boys. "Well, my dear, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Before she should say anything more, Sam jumped in. "So, are you, like, Stevie's friend, or somethin'?" he inquired, adding an extra stress on the words 'friend' and 'something'. Surely, there was a double meaning behind the question. From the glint in his eyes, Stevie had already picked out the hidden message.

"Actually, business colleagues, in a manner of speaking," Holly answered slowly and carefully. Her being vague did not help cure Sam of curiosity.

"Shocking. Stevie rarely makes friends, least of all, if they're part of the female population." Sam snorted a bit. He was rather enjoying humiliating Stevie. He had done it to Sam countless of times before.

Dwight coughed, sending a message to Sam to end his nonsense interrogation. "Stevie, why don't you and Holly head off to the buff-," he was cut off.

Before he could finish his sentence Mary managed to attract someone else's attention. "Mercedes!" she welcomed the newly arrived guests. "Oh how wonderful. You made it."

Sam slowly turned around, afraid that Mercedes' radiance might stupefied him that he would engage into a passionate kiss with her. What he saw though broke something beating wildly inside of him. Beside her stood Kurt, looking all beaming and gleaming with Mercedes in his arms. He uttered a low 'keh'. Only Stevie heard it as he was standing beside his brother.

"Happy Birthday," Mercedes greeted. Mary kissed her at the cheek. "This is Kurt," she introduced him. "Blaine sends his apologies for his absence."He had a test at his night class," she said with a small smile. Disappointment enveloped her. Sam didn't even run to greet her or even looked the tiniest happy to see her.

"Hello, Kurt," Mary cheerfully shook his extended hand. She turned around to face everyone. "Everybody, this young lady is the reason this party is so beautiful. Did you all notice the flowers and the right color of chairs? It was all because of Mercedes!" she said, half-dragging both Mercedes and Kurt to the little circle of her intermediate family. This is my husband, Dwight. You've never met him 'cause his always on a golf trip or doing a little business meeting despite his retirement," she introduced Dwight who happily kissed the hand of a blushing Mercedes. "This is Stevie, my youngest son, whom you've met briefly. This is the lovely Holly. And this is… Oh how silly of me. You know Sam already!"

Sam, and he was sure Stevie as well, was staring at their mother's perky exuberance. Mary was known for her unusual spurts of vibrancy and energy.

"Nice to meet you," Mercedes acknowledged everyone with a smile. "Happy anniversary," she said looking at both Dwight and Mary

"Thank you. I hope you will enjoy your evening-," Dwight was cut off once more.

"Quinn's here, Sam!" Mary happily announced. Everyone turned to the direction of the newly arrived guest.

Sam could feel beads of sweat forming just inside the collar of his dress shirt. He urged his legs to meet and greet his fiancée. Before walking towards the smiling creature (who would be his bride), he stole a quick glance at Mercedes. Was it just his imagination or was there something else behind the gaze she gave him? Sam refocused himself on his fiancée.

Quinn greeted him with another of her big smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "Sorry, I'm late, hon. I have to pick up Mom," she hooked an arm around Sam's. He greeted the older woman standing beside his fiancée.

They approached the little group. Sam wasn't sure if there were any need of introductions. After all, his parents and Stevie knew of Quinn and her family. It was only for the sake of Holly and Kurt, and well, Mercedes too, that he introduced Quinn.

"Everyone, this is Quinn, Mrs. Fabray ," was all he said. "Holly, Kurt," he indicated. "And Mercedes," he rested his eyes at her before quickly snatching his gaze away. Quinn shook the hands of those she knew. She was smart though, in Sam's observation, to avoid Stevie. Quinn once told him she was a little scared of his older brother.

"What a lovely evening," Mary gushed.

"Happy Birthday, Mary," Quinn embraced the older woman then kissed her on the cheek.

"Call me mom," Mary winked.

"Mom, then!" Quinn giggled. "Then, happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!"

Dwight laughed. "Then, I guess, on to the announcement!" He walked over to a small platform set up at the centre of the garden. Dwight signaled for the musicians to halt. He tapped the microphone for attention. He frowned a little, remembering he did the exact same thing some months ago when he announced his older son's engagement. "Can I have everyone's attention please?" All at once the place turned silent.

Sam was itching to stop his father. He noticed his group of friends had just arrived, in time for the big announcement. Finn, Mike, and Puck made their way to greet Sam, but did not say anything yet. They were waiting for Dwight to finish his speech.

"My wife, the exquisite birthday celebrant, and I are very honored and flattered to be blessed with all your presence for tonight. I'd like to take this opportunity to express our gratitude. Also, I am pleased to make an important and joyous announcement." He cleared his throat. "My son and his beautiful girlfriend, Quinn Fabray have finally set the date to tie the knot. Let us give a thunderous applause for them on being officially engaged!"

The guests cheered. Sam's friends clasped him on the back. Quinn was laughing at the uproar. "Come up here, you two lovebirds!" Dwight called for them.

The two obliged. They made their way to the ledge. Sam resisted the urge to glance at Mercedes. If he looked, he would only see a woman applauding and smiling, not knowing that his heart really belonged to her. He put on a fake smile, a facsimile of a smirk, before he and Quinn stepped up the platform.

If Sam had looked, he would have seen the woman, Mercedes, trying to fight the tears in her eyes. If he had looked, he would have seen her, unable to clap her hands or give in a smile, even a fake smile was hard to conjure.

If only he had looked, he would have seen the hurt in Mercedes' eyes, the way she clung to Kurt's arm for fear she would lose balance and fall.

Because at the moment, she was falling, falling out of hope, falling in despair; but worst of all, she was still falling more in love with him. Illogical reasons it may be.

* * *

**AN: **Don't hurt me. Things WILL get better! =p I know this took forever but I've been super lazy lately. (: Review time! Don't murder Sam just yet!


	19. Chapter 19

_Chapter nineteen_

_xox_

Everything unfolded before her eyes, as if Fate was mocking her, intentionally hurting her for being foolishly in love. Mercedes stood frozen, clinging to Kurt for support, not knowing what to do. A big part of her wanted to leave in an instant, but being rude was never her forte. Instead she stayed to endure a painful feeling she had never felt before.

She was there from the very beginning, when Mary indicated to Quinn to call her mom instead. Mercedes was there when Dwight announced the official engagement. Mercedes stayed and watched when the couple ascended the platform, with Quinn clinging to Sam like a piece of glamorous accessory to an already beautiful creation. Mercedes stayed when the crowd around her chanted a kiss from the couple. Mercedes was there the whole time everyone celebrated the love between Sam and his fiancée.

It hurt so much, yet Mercedes couldn't bring herself to get angry with Sam for sending her mixed signals. She couldn't even hold that small kiss against Sam. No, she couldn't blame herself. Maybe that was what love truly was.

Mercedes felt Kurt squeezing her hand, reminding her he was there for her; and for that she was grateful.

"Do you want to leave?" Kurt whispered in such a low voice at first the words didn't register in her ears.

Mercedes sighed, swallowing hard the lump stuck in her throat. "N-no. We should stay. I don't want to be rude," she whispered back. Kurt only nodded.

Soon the guests went back to their casual chatters. The musicians resumed their playing. Mary, being the excellent party hostess she was, led both Mercedes and Kurt to the buffet table and insisted the two to start eating.

Mercedes could only smile.

* * *

His eyes scanned the place for that solitary face. There she was, a vision of simplicity. There she was, smiling at every word her boyfriend spoke. There she was. If only it were him she was smiling at, the night could have been easier to enjoy.

"Hey man!" his three friends clasped him on the back. "Finally settling down, eh?" Mike hooted.

"And here I thought you'll never commit," Finn snorted.

Sam shrugged. "Quinn finally decided to make it official."

"She's still wearing the pants in this relationship?" Puck snickered.

Sam glared at him. It was the constant tease for him that Quinn was in control of all decisions in their relationship. Sam hated the notion of it yet he knew it was the truth. Quinn just seemed to have the say in everything.

"Don't start, man!" Mike jokingly said. He turned to Sam with a serious expression. "What about… you know… the chick you visit at the City Plaza?" he asked in a low voice. "Isn't that her?"

"What? I didn't hear that? Who? Where?" Puck nagged.

"Yeah. I thought it was all over with, uh…" Finn nudged his head towards Quinn's direction.

"Nah. Things were just confusing after my accident. Everything's the way it's supposed to be," Sam answered in nonchalance. Right now, he didn't need his friends to confuse him more.

"Then why is she here?" Puck asked who truthfully knew what they were discussing. "Look Sam, we're your friends. Very happy for ya, man. But, few months ago you were telling me about flowers and festivals and a woman-,"

"What woman?"

All turned to look at an inquiring Quinn who still wore a big smile on her face, despite the confusion written on her face. "Well, heh eh heh, I was just telling Sam about this woman who's a florist and she'd be excellent for flower arrangement on your wedding!" Puck answered carefully.

"Oh yes! Flowers. Sorry Noah but Mary, or mom, already have someone she'd refer to me. She's actually the party planner- Lexus, I think her name is? I'll go talk to her later," Quinn said cheerfully, once again hooking an arm around Sam's, as if afraid she would lose him any minute.

"Oh? Okay, then!" Puck snorted, knowing too well he and Quinn had only one person in mind.

Sam shook his head disapprovingly at his friends. They were not making things easy for him. He took Quinn by the arm. "Well, you guys enjoy your evening. Free food. You gotta love that Puck. Finn, don't drink all the alcohol will ya? And Mike, just, just stick with them!" he said then quickly walked away taking Quinn with him before his friends had any chance to reply.

* * *

Ironic how time ticked quickly yet the night unraveled slowly in front of their eyes. Mercedes was glad Kurt was there. Another more hour, she would say her goodbyes to Mary and Dwight. If she would ever get the chance to see Sam, she might wish him a happy life; nothing more, nothing less.

"There are so many beautiful people here. Granted, many are twice my age but I've never been with an older man before. Might be good experience," Kurt was saying, which prompted a soft laugh from Mercedes. It was all he needed to hear just to know Mercedes was a bit okay. He knew, deep inside, his best friend was hurting bad. "They have more experience in love and," Kurt cleared his throat then leaned forward for a whisper. "And most importantly, more experience in bed!" He winked at Mercedes, knowing too well it would embarrass her greatly.

Mercedes kicked him underneath the table, just to be subtle. "You're being a pervert again," she hissed.

"Oh well," he shrugged then stared at Mercedes closely. "Are you enjoying yourself? You know, aside from the fact many were approaching us to commend you on a job well-done on the party."

Mercedes slightly blushed. "This is a nice experience," she answered in a neutral tone. Kurt only nodded. He would wait until they get home before he would confront Mercedes about her feelings. This was not the place to be the matured, all-knowing, therapist-like best friend that he was. For now, Kurt would be the perverse-minded, funny, nonsense best friend that he was.

The live music that was playing suddenly stopped. An elegant-dressed woman stepped up on the microphone. A melodious harmony enveloped the whole place. Many of the guests paused and turned to watch the lady singer. "This is for all you lovers tonight. Let's celebrate love, especially Mr. Evans and Ms. Fabray," the lady singer dedicated the song to the officially engaged couple.

Within seconds, the singer's rich, soft and solemn voice filled the entire garden. Not a single sound was heard except for the music and these words…

_Maybe it's been a little too long_

_Holding it in, trying to be strong_

_Funny the things we bottle up_

_Come streaming out when you feel enough_

_There is a trust the cautious will lack_

_And now that we've touched there's no holding back_

Mercedes saw how Sam's fiancée pulled him towards the center of the garden. She saw how Sam hesitated, a pint of embarrassment brought pinkish color to his cheeks. Jealousy pricked her when Quinn wrapped her arms around Sam's neck as the two slow-danced along with the devotional, somber music.

Many of the guests followed, even the birthday celebrant herself and her husband made their way to the dance floor in the center of the garden.

_I wanna call out for love till I can't breathe_

_I wanna stare at the truth till I can't see_

_I wanna pour out my soul till I'm empty_

_Empty…_

Mercedes absorbed the words like a stab in her chest. There was a lone tear dripping down her cheek. This was her song… for Sam.

"Care to dance, Lady Mercedes?" she vaguely heard Kurt's request. He held out a hand for her. "Come on, just this one," he urged.

Mercedes hesitated. She was not a bad dancer; she could dance if she so desired to. But the thought of dancing where she could be closer to Sam, with another woman in his arms, would be too painful. Yet, Kurt requested it. He had done so much for her that she couldn't refuse. Mercedes took his hand, gave him a weak smile. The two friends walked hand in hand towards the center of the garden.

_When only flesh and bone remain_

_I'll hold you close… then start again_

_Feeling nothing but a sweet release_

_Then the ghosts are gone from inside of me_

_I've tried to fight it but what can I do_

_There's something deeper that surrenders to you_

There was a heavy feelings developing inside Sam as he watched closely the approaching figure of Mercedes and Kurt. He fought the deep impulse of growling at the other man. His sub-conscious roared at the thought he should be the one dancing with Mercedes, or Mercedes should be the one in his arms at the moment.

Sam tried to focus at Quinn, whose head was rested comfortably on his chest. She seemed so frail in his arms, as if she did not fit there. He mentally shook his head, cursing at his self. It was not right. He would soon be a husband to Quinn; he should stop thinking of such crazy and foolish thoughts.

The words of the song complemented his heartache though.

_I wanna call out for love till I can't breathe_

_I wanna stare at the truth till I can't see_

_I wanna pour out my soul till I'm empty_

_Empty…_

_What better way to describe how he felt inside! Hollow. Empty._

_When I touch you, when I hear you_

_How can I doubt when every time I'm near you?_

Just like Fate intended, Mercedes and Sam finally gazed at each other eye-to-eye when both couples moved to a different direction. Kurt had his back turned on Sam, as well as Quinn's on Mercedes.

And there, Sam recognized a look of pain in her eyes. It confused him. Was that a tear clouding her eyes, those gentle yet strong eyes? Was that just hurt he saw in those pools of bronze?

_I wanna stare at the truth till I can't see_

_I wanna pour out my soul till I'm empty_

_Empty…_

Green eyes gazed into Brown ones as the song melted into the thin air, withdrawn when the song stopped and the singer sang the last chord.

_Empty…_

_The night ended like an empty bottle of wine: no use for an aching heart!_

* * *

**AN_: _**Sorry for the wait for those who are still following/reading this story.


	20. Chapter 20

_Chapter twenty._

_xox_

It was a long journey back home – well, at least for Kurt. The ever-so-talkative person had no words to say to Mercedes except for the every minute interval of loud sighing. He would constantly take a glance at her or simply watch her from the corner of his eye, just to see how she was doing. Mercedes remained silent, looking straight ahead to the road, and the amount of seriousness produced in her face equaled the amount of her sadness. Kurt could only offer sympathy.

Kurt parked the car right in front of his house, which was across from Mercedes'. "Well, here we are, Lady Mercedes. Home sweet home. I'll walk you home, don't worry," he winked at her, still able to add humor despite of the situation. He watched as Mercedes only nodded before stepping out of the vehicle. He observed how she simply resembled a walking zombie, only walking straight ahead as if no care for the world. "Hey! Wait up," he called to her as he quickly dashed out of his car and ran to her side.

And once again, he sighed.

She still remained mime.

"I knew you'd be home by now!" a cheerful voice greeted them. Kurt smiled at the young brother of Mercedes who, despite his physical weakness, erupted with strong exuberance.

"You should be asleep by now, Matt," Kurt commented. He stole a look at Mercedes, thinking that when she saw her brother she would snap out of her muteness. He sighed for the eleventh hundred times. Mercedes remained as silent as a goldfish.

Emma appeared from the kitchen doorway. "I couldn't get him to sleep. The young one is excited to hear all about this party," she explained. "It was the first time her sister had been out late," she said in a humorous tone.

Matt smiled sheepishly at the both of them. "So, Mercy how was it? Was Sam there? Did he say why he never comes to visit? Did you tell him Raisin and I miss him?" he asked his sister.

Every question hit her hard. What could she say to her little brother? Instead of answering Matt's question, Mercedes stormed out of the house, trying hard to refrain herself from crying foolish tears. The smile on Matt's face vanished; replaced by the look of fear he might have said something wrong.

Kurt returned his gaze on the young boy's concerned face, after he stared at the retreating Mercedes. "Don't worry, Matt. Your sister had just a bit of a bad night, sort-of like a bad hair day. I'm sure by tomorrow she'll be okay and ready to answer your questions."

Matt looked down at his lap. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong. Maybe Mercy was just mad because I stayed up late. My bedtime was ten," he said sadly.

Kurt walked up to him and patted him on the back. "It's not your fault. I'll go talk to her, I promise. Now, you should go to sleep so your sister won't get more upset. Okay?"

Matt nodded slowly. "Will you tell her I'm sorry?"

Kurt nodded; saddened by the fact that Mercedes' gloominess was affecting Matt. "Good night, Matt," he said as he watched the young boy get up the stairs with the help of Emma. "Good night, Ms. Emma," he said before disappearing outside.

He found Mercedes sitting by the front porch swing. "Mercedes…" Kurt gently called out to her. A sad look crossed over his face as he stared at the crying woman.

Mercedes was sitting by the front porch, face drenched with tears. The pain was unbearable. It was almost as equal as the day she learned of her parents' death. Her heart was breaking into tiny pieces, as if it was a jewel pierced by an arrow breaking into shards then scattering all over the place.

"It really hurts, doesn't it?" Kurt said, eyes looking up into the cloudless sky. "Loving someone, that is. Especially if you knew the person you love," he paused; aware a lump in his throat began forming. His violet eyes clouded with pain, as he looked at the woman he loved so much, as a best friend and much more. "Already belongs to someone else; whether by will or not. Sometimes, it's not even fair," his voice was full of emotion; he was speaking from experience.

"You don't know how it feels. How could you? You've had so many lovers. You've never felt rejected, Kurt," Mercedes spoke up for the first time, yet her tone had a touch of venom.

Kurt looked away from her. "You're wrong. I know how that kind of pain feels. I am just good at hiding my emotions. I am just good at looking for other things to occupy my mind than let myself cry over something I have no control of," he said, anger rising. How could Mercedes accuse him of such crime?

"Well, I'm not exactly like you, am I? This is the first time I fell in love; and what did I get out of it? Nothing!" her voice notched up a volume higher.

Fortunately, Kurt understood her frustration. Still, he could not sit there and let Mercedes drown in pain "Cry all you want, Mercedes. Be mad. Get angry. Be in rage. Do anything violent," he could feel his fingernails dug deeper into skin as his hand clenched tightly. Then with a much softer and calmer tone, Kurt said, "Just don't lose hope." He took Mercedes' hand and clasped it firmly. His heart ached for his friend whom he loved in the most pure, honest way a man could ever love a woman. But she did not belong to him. "Never forget for a minute those who love you." Kurt released her hand and stood up. "You'll always have me, Mercedes. Always keep that in mind." With that, he walked away towards his home, fading into the darkness of the night.

Her glazed eyes were fixed on Kurt's retreating figure. Her thoughts were jumbled in confusion and drowning in questions. Kurt was right. Loving someone was painful and unfair. Fate was simply unbiased in regards to her. For a moment she questioned Fate why she couldn't have simply fallen in love with Kurt. He was a perfect gentleman, sweet, kind and was always there for her. Things could have been a lot easier.

But the heart chose someone else. Her heart chose a man who had already belonged to another.

Sam, her heart screamed in pain.

Mercedes buried her face in her hands as she vowed to shed the last tears for Sam. She would always love him; but he was not for her to claim.

* * *

Pain. Such a simple word. If he was a writer and he would write a story of his life at the very moment, pain would be used as many times as he could make it in a sentence.

Pain; what a despicable word.

Sam snorted. How did he get into such a position? Well, hell be damned! He wouldn't waste such a peaceful, quiet reverie and a good bottle of beer just to think things through. All that would do would drive him mad and confuse him the more. He gulped down the whole bottle of beer, letting the cool liquid oozed down his throat.

Sam closed his eyes, resting his head as he lied down on the platform set up in the center of the garden. The place had already been cleaned up of the previous night's party. All was left was the small stage built for the musicians. Sam found a resting place on it. He felt another presence around him. He opened one eye to see his brother leaning against the post, drinking a glass of red wine.

"What're you doin' here?" he grunted.

"I am here to think," Stevie simply answered without bothering to look at him.

Sam snickered out loud. "And you think you could think with me hanging around?"

"I am not here to fight. As I've stated, I am here to think," Stevie replied coolly. He idly sipped on his drink, one hand inside his pocket. He was simply enjoying a peaceful night at the garden. Most of the house's occupants had gone to sleep. Stevie came back, right after he brought Holly home. He simply did not realize Sam was lying on his back at the platform until he heard him snort.

"Not here to fight, huh? I highly doubt it!" he muttered under his breath, not sure if his older brother even heard it. Silence then followed suit.

"It is not sanitary to sprawl out on that stage where it has been trudged upon by dirty shoes," Stevie spoke up, still refusing to look at Sam.

Sam rose up from his lying down position. He grabbed another beer bottle he had brought with him on his supposed quiet pondering. "What's it to you, Mr. Clean? Don't tell me you're all concerned about my welfare? Well, I'll be damned!" he snarled in a childish manner.

He watched as Stevie took another sip of his wine. His eyes were closed as if he was on deep meditation. "You already are damned by being trapped in an engagement you are hesitant about," he replied languidly.

"What the fuck do you mean by that, you moron?" Sam almost shouted.

Stevie faced him, his eyes mocking his brother. "You did not even bother hide your grim face when Dad announced your engagement to that little twit of yours," he said as if it was a matter-of-point.

Sam's green eyes narrowed in anger. "Fuck off, Stevie!"

"The only words in your vocabulary, much used," his tone was sardonic. "The whole evening your eyes preyed on that florist who also helped planned this party. Why am I not surprised? Was she also some woman-on-the-side?"

Sam had the urge of jumping from where he sat and attacking Stevie. If only he did not have the content of alcohol he consumed in him, he wouldn't feel so light-headed. "Be happy I'm drunk or else that damn pretty face of yours will have a throbbing black eye," he growled at his brother who by the minute was looking more and more annoying than he ever was. Sam sighed. He was getting tired of this. He had too much on his mind to rack his brain of comebacks to use for an insult against Stevie.

Alcohol clouded and subdued his usual violent self. "This is fucking tiring! Who cares what you think, anyways. Mercedes is not my woman-on-the-side. For your information, she's as good a woman a man could ever have the privilege to be with!" He did not know why he was telling that to Stevie. It was the alcohol talking.

"Then why are you not with her? You certainly hold a high regard on this woman," Stevie questioned after a moment's pause. He, also, was exhausted to indulge in a never-ending fight with an idiot for a brother.

Sam who would usually snap at him for asking only stared down at the ground. "It's not as easy. I would if I could."

"Who is stopping you? Quinn? Certainly if you hold esteem on this other woman, Quinn would not matter," Stevie supplied if a bit surprised he was having this talk with Sam. Yet he understood why the bickering turned into a matured, serious, half-decent conversation. Sam was having the same dilemma as he was. He saw it in Sam's eyes when the younger man glared at him.

A throbbing ache in his head appeared. Sam gulped down on the beer bottle once more, intent of drowning his self in the glorious dream in order to sleep undisturbed for the night. This conversation with Stevie, although less on the insulting remarks, was going sour. "Quinn has no control over whom I choose to admire or like," he said, regretting after for slipping up.

"The halfwit is your fiancée. Surely she had the say in such matters. I highly doubt she approves of you attaching yourself with another woman," he spat the words at Sam; yet the words were intended for himself as well.

Sam even let go of Stevie's insulting referral of Quinn. He was more concerned with what the statement contained. Stevie was right on many levels. Instantly, his mind recalled that day Stevie told him to use his second chance wisely. "I was only following your advice," he muttered under his breath, thinking out loud.

"And that would be?"

Normally he wouldn't answer a question his brother had posted. He would, if only the sentence involved the words: Fuck off, Stevie, none of your business. Yet, in his despair, he needed to release some tension, confusion and pain. Stevie was the only available person for the job. "You told me to use this second fucking chance wisely. I am!"

"By subjecting yourself in a loveless, forlorn engagement?"

"I used to love Quinn," he mumbled.

Stevie drank the last contents of his wine glass. He placed the empty glass on the ledge. "Once again, you failed to understand what I had said. You are truly a hopeless idiot. A second chance does not mean to give in to others' wishes even if it caused you heavy predicaments." He had said his last peace. He walked away steadily from Sam and into the house. He already felt awkward for having a (literally) harmless and serious talk with Sam.

He stared after Stevie. Who the hell gave Stevie the right to judge him? The bastard had just brought another woman while being engaged to another! Sam clenched his fists. He would deal with this stomach-aching, mind-boggling, heart-wrenching problem he had. Tomorrow he would go see Mercedes.

_Tomorrow he would get his answer._

* * *

The tomorrow he promised himself became three days exactly. Sam just gave himself more time to think. He slowly trudged the path that led to the small flower shop in the City Plaza. He stopped by the front entrance. How long ago was his last visit there? He walked in, going directly to where a familiar man stood.

"Hey," he greeted casually.

Blaine turned around. "My, my. Look who finally decided to show up again. You have been MIA for the past few weeks."

"I was just very busy. Is Mercedes here?"

Blaine studied the other man closely. Still the same Sam as before; yet he knew (even though Mercedes never said a word of it) this was the same Sam who made Mercedes gloomy these days. "Why should I tell you where Mistress Mercedes is"

Sam snorted. "What about a sucker-punch instead?"

Blaine glared. "That's not very funny. I'm not going to tell you where Mercedes is."

"Who are you not going to tell where I am at, Blaine?" Mercedes appeared from the back room of the shop.

Blaine's face fell flat. So much for that! He threw his hands up in the air. "Eh? Well, now you know where she is," he poked Sam on the chest. "I'm off to lunch!" he said then disappeared.

"Hey," Sam said softly.

"What can I do for you?" Mercedes asked with indifference. She was able to calm down the somersaulting heart of hers the moment she laid eyes on Sam. Why was he here? Did he come by to cause her more pain, whether his intention or not?

"I need to talk to you. Is there some place where we can talk privately?"

Mercedes knew she should refuse and send him away. The more minute she would spend with him would be like a lifetime of heartache. Yet, she nodded anyway. "It's lunchtime. I can close the shop for a few minutes," she walked towards the door and locked it then turned the 'open' sign over. "We can talk in the back room. I'm doing some flower arranging for a customer." Sam followed her. Mercedes went back to the unfinished artwork she had been doing. Her back was facing Sam; she simply could not let herself drown in pain by gazing into his eyes. She felt Sam's gentle hands on both her arms as he turned her body to face him. A look of surprise crossed her face.

Sam immediately noticed the alarming look on Mercedes' face. He released his hold on her and took a step or two backward. He opened his mouth to begin the long speech he had mentally practiced for the past three days. His throat became extremely dried. Sam clamped his lips tightly, losing the train of thoughts he had so carefully rehearsed.

The room was filled with awkward silence, both individuals gauging on each other. Mercedes broke the silence. "You said you wanted to talk?"

Sam brought a hand to the back of his neck. He felt foolish and nervous. "Well, I need to tell ya something," he said, still stalling.

Mercedes wanted to scream "out with it" to Sam, just so she wouldn't have to endure this painful quietness with him any longer. Instead, she waited, if rather impatiently, for him to speak out.

Sam heaved a deep breath. It was now or never! "I know you have this relationship with Kurt; and I also value our friendship to its very core. But Mercedes, I don't think I'm doing myself a favor if I'm not going to tell you about these…these," he started to stammer. This was harder than he anticipated. "About these feelings, umm, I, uh, well, I, uh, have," he scratched the back of his neck once again. "I know it doesn't make sense. Hell, it really doesn't. I'm more confused than I ever was."

Mercedes' brow was knitted. As confusing as Sam had spoken, she had a vague idea what he was trying to say. "Sam, can you please be a little more direct?" she said carefully.

Sam's eyes were fixed on the floor. He did not speak for minutes. Mercedes even thought he would just stay silent. Alas, he spoke out, and this time with more confidence. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that," he paused once more, adding a half litter of frustration on her. "Mercedes," he looked up to meet delicate bronze eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with you." He did not wait for any reaction. He was better with actions than words anyway. So he acted to explain further.

With more courage he had mustered in a span of four minutes, Sam pulled Mercedes to him, lifted her chin with gentle fingers and kissed her as passionate as a kiss could be.

* * *

**AN**:Well..he finally said it. Is it too little, too late?

You guys are awesome. Totally lifts my spirits when I read the reviews I get on this story. Totally makes my day. Thanks to everyone who is enjoying this story so far. Review time!


	21. Chapter 21

_Chapter twenty-one_

_xox_

It was something she wished for. Oh, how she wished for it.

Yet there she was, standing rigidly, her feet frozen, her heart beating a heavy beat, and her mind screaming how wrong it was – this kiss. Wasn't a kiss supposed to seal the deal?

Mercedes slowly backed away from Sam as the kiss ended. She kissed him back; and that was a mistake on her part. Her eyes questioned his intention, her lips frozen from the burning kiss. Instinctively, Mercedes braced herself; as if she was standing naked in front of the man she so loved. "W-why?" she managed to croak out.

"Because," was the slow, embarrassed answer.

Mercedes shook her head. Shouldn't she feel elated? Shouldn't she jump for joy? Shouldn't she just simply feel happy, ecstatic and satisfied? Shouldn't all this feel right, now that Sam had confessed? After all, it was a dreamy situation she imagined every night when she couldn't go to sleep?

But why did it feel so… so, wrong?

"You're engaged!" she managed to say.

Sam looked sideways. He began to feel the awkwardness of the situation. Indeed, it should be. He just handed her an exploding truth; and if Mercedes had known him for more than a year, she might not even believe him. After all, Sam had the talent of lying to himself and to everyone else. "I know."

"Then… then… Why are you telling me all this?"

He sighed out loud. What exactly had he said to her? His mind was still lost in the softness of her lips. "I don't have an answer, Mercedes. All I know is that I have to tell you." Questions began forming in his head. The reality of the situation sunk in. Did he make the right decision in telling Mercedes how he felt, despite doubts and confusion? What about the second chance he promised himself he would get right?

"W-what, what do you want me to say?" Mercedes asked, tired of playing figure-it-out-through-hidden-meanings-and-actions.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. Two faces came into mind. What about Mercedes' boyfriend, Kurt, and his fiancée, Quinn? 'What about them?' his sub-conscious questioned. "Maybe you could also tell me how you feel about me?" a crooked smile appeared on his face. He was trying to add a little humor to the tension in the atmosphere.

The smile did no change in Mercedes' dilemma. A part of her wanted to scream and shout she had loved him since the beginning, back in the hospital where he was still in coma. Yet, the logical and sensible side of her won the debate. This was not how she wanted to know his feelings for her. There were other people involved in the situation, mainly Sam's fiancée. Mercedes would make sure everything was in place before she attached herself to Sam. Blame it on being selfless. "I don't know how to answer that question."

"Is this about Kurt?"

Mercedes frowned. "I don't see how Kurt is involved here."

"He's your boyfriend. I don't want to steal his girlfriend from him."

Mercedes was a little taken aback at his statement. He thought Kurt was her boyfriend? Would that be the reason why he never even gave a hint about his feelings for her? Did she even do anything to make it seem Kurt was her boyfriend? "Kurt's my childhood best friend, and he's gay. But my _love_ for him could never be more than friends," she answered truthfully.

Sam smiled. A look of relief crossed his face. He wanted to smack himself for not realizing that Kurt was gay, he shook his head and looked down at Mercedes, "Then there's no problem at all!" he whistled. He took Mercedes' hand and kissed it. "If only I realized earlier."

"What about Quinn?"

The question froze him on the spot. Why was he so attached with Quinn anyway?

Mercedes took Sam's silence as the answer to her hidden question. "Look at me straight into the eye, Sam, before I tell you how I truly feel," her voice had a tint of pleading in it. "Look at me and tell me you are sure of how you feel about me. Tell me you are not confused or having doubts. Tell me in all honesty," her voice grew demanding. She just had to know this man standing before him would be all hers to claim.

Sam hesitated. Did he jump instinctively once again which resulted to a big mistake? How could he tell Mercedes he was still confused and doubtful? Would it hurt her? "I. Am. not. Sure." He gently released his hold on her hand. "I know I admire your beauty, your courage, your strength and the quietness and peace you have in your life. I know that I want you," he admitted. "I think I love you, Mercedes."

And once again, there was that word again. "You think you love me?" she asked softly. She should be angry at the statement but she understood. She placed a hand on his cheek. "You are not sure how you feel, Sam. I cannot settle for that. If I were to accept your love, it should be full and complete," she told him with vehement determination. "You are still an engaged man, thus a committed man to another woman."

Sam frowned. He knew what she was saying; he did not want to accept it. Yet, what was he supposed to say? "Are you saying you want me to break off my engagement with Quinn?" he asked then realizing how stupid his question was. Of course she would want that, if ever she loved him as much as he loved her.

"Will you do it?" she asked. Mercedes might have loved him deeply but she would not settle to be second best. Tears started to threaten to pour out when she saw the uncertainty in his green eyes. She looked deeper to the amber windows of his soul, and there found the wavering emotions of a man. "You can't do it, can you? You are not sure if I am enough to make you break up with your fiancé, are you?"

Sam brushed the strands of hair that fell on his face, an excuse to hide his eyes from her prying pair. "M-Mercedes… Please. Understand."

"I do," she cupped his face with both hands this time and pulled him closer to place a kiss on his cheek. "That's why I think you should go," she said before stepping away from his closeness.

"Huh?"

"I want you to leave," she repeated, but her voice was gentle and kind. She looked at him with sad eyes. "Leave as my friend; and when you have decided, come back as someone more than one," she forced herself to smile. "If you do not return, I will know your answer to my questions."

At first Sam found it hard to dissect the meaning of her ultimatum. Leave as a friend? Come back as something more when he came to a decision? Mercedes was giving him a chance to think, to make things right. He nodded slowly, although unwilling to walk away just yet. Both turned to the doorway when they heard a loud banging on the door entrance of the shop.

Blaine was banging in annoyance on the glass door of the shop. If the moment were not so somber and melancholy, both Sam and Mercedes would burst out laughing at him. Blaine entered the shop with a grim expression. He eyed the two suspiciously. "What were you two doing that needed the whole place to close?" His eyes travelled from Sam to Mercedes. "You two didn't… you know, do it, did you?"

Both ignored him. Sam gazed at Mercedes for the last time. He muttered such a low, heavy-hearted goodbye. Within minutes, he was gone, with only his lingering scent filled in Mercedes' nose.

"What happened to him?" Blaine asked before realizing the sad bronze eyes of his friend. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'll be fine, Blaine. I made a choice; and I should stick to it," Mercedes responded, knowing her vagueness will only prompt Blaine's curiosity. Surprisingly, Blaine did not pry. He simply went over to his friend and gave her a pat in the shoulder.

"It's really hard, when we fall in love. It can be so exciting and fulfilling yet tragic and disappointing."

Mercedes smiled at the realism of Blaine's statements. She stared at the door where Sam had walked away from her. Perhaps that would be the last time she would ever see him again. She gave him the option to come into terms with his feelings. If he found himself loving his fiancée more, he would never go back to her. It pained her to think that way.

Loving someone meant setting him (or her) free. Such a cliché!

Mercedes let the tears fall from her eyes, with Blaine trying to comfort her. She truly loved Sam but she did the right decision. Kurt told her never to lose hope; and that was what she intended to do. She would continue hoping Sam would surrender his whole heart to her. Was that such a selfish request in Mercedes' part?

But hope at times was not enough.

Two months from that day, two whole months since Sam confessed his hesitant love for Mercedes…

Two months and not a single visit, call or a greeting of hello.

Mercedes, as painful as it can be, accepted the fact Sam had made a choice.

And she was not his choice.

* * *

**AN**: Why do you think Sam disappeared for a whole two months? Let me know your predictions! O:


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter Twenty-two_

_xox_

Sam dribbled the ball hard. He was starting to get frustrated. Why couldn't he simply aim for the basket? He had been playing a one-man basketball game to relieve some frustration. Instead, he was getting more and more aggravated. If he weren't shooting an air ball, he would hit the rim of the basket. However hard he threw the ball, the ball never seemed to go inside the basket net.

When he had enough, he threw the ball as hard as he could with the ball only hitting the board with a loud, echoing thud. Sam yelled in frustration. "Fucking ball!" he shouted.

"I told you I hate it when you swear," a stern voice from behind spoke up. He instantly turned around. Mary was standing by the doorway, leading inside the house. She was giving Sam a cold glare, similar to Stevie's. Sam hissed an apology. Mary sighed out loud. "Give me the ball," she instructed. Sam gave her a puzzled look but retrieved the ball then handed it to his mother. Mary dribbled the ball slowly, in a feminine manner. She took a shooting stance and aimed the ball to the basket. The ball went it. "See, you have to aim good in order to get it right," she told Sam with a smile. "It is just like life, honey."

"Huh? Whatcha mean, mom?"

"Let's compare life to shooting the ball, shall we?" she took the ball once more to shoot it again. After concentrating for seconds, she shot it and made the basket – again. "See. You have to think deeply before deciding how to shoot it. You just don't throw the ball and shoot it without analyzing the situation."

"And how does that compare to life, mom?" he snickered; refusing to digest what Mary was trying to say. After all, his mother never played basketball like he did during his high school years.

Mary faced him. "Because in life you have to analyze the situation first before deciding what to do with it. You simply don't jump at it and cross your fingers that it will turn out okay. Sometimes, you hold your own destiny."

Sam scratched his head. "Hey mom. I think you're forgetting I'm not Stevie. Please cut short with the riddles," he threw the ball once more. It never even reached the rim. He closed his eyes, controlling himself not to swear in front of his mother. "You're saying in life one has to think long and hard before doing any action, right? Well, that's not like me," he scoffed. His type was to do the thinking while taking some action at the same time. Just like how he agreed with his engagement with Quinn; or how he confessed his feelings to Mercedes without thinking of the small important details. "And why are you all of a sudden lecturing me about life?"

"Because these past two months, you've been nothing but gloomy and on-edge. Quinn told me you didn't attend a marriage conference she set up."

"Well, Quinn went. What's the use of me going then? She can simply tell me what B.S. they talked about there!"

Mary shook his head. "That's not how it goes, my sweetie. Marriage involves a give-and-take relationship. It seems to me Quinn is the only one giving and giving."

"Did she say anything she wanted me to give her?" he asked with an ignorant expression, making himself sound clueless of what Mary had said. Of course he knew what his mother meant. He bent down to pick up the basketball and stared at it.

His mother's analogous concept of the basketball to life made him think. If he couldn't even make the basket, how else could he do the right thing in life?

"Tell me, mom. What were you really gonna talk to me about? I don't think you came out here to really shoot some baskets with me? There's always a purpose in this mother-son talks we kept having," he shot the basketball once more, this time concentrating a bit longer on his aim. The ball reached the rim, only to bounce out. Once again, he failed to make the basket. What a life!

"You're a big boy now, Sam. A man, technically. But I don't think you're doing the right thing, for your sake that is," Mary finally decided to stop beating around the bush. "I don't think you want to get married. Not just yet. Or maybe, not with the right woman?"

Sam stared at his mother, long and hard. He was surprised. He didn't know whether he was more surprised Mary said it to him; or she took longer to say it to him. Either way, she was dead right. Sam walked to where the ball had dropped and sat on it. A sarcastic grin played across his face. "And here I thought wedding jitters are for women only," he snorted. "Moommm," he called out to his mother in an almost pouty, childish manner. "I am so confused. I don't know what to do!" he finally gathered the confidence to convey his raw emotions to his mother. If there were any person who would be able to help ease the confusion and doubts a bit, it would be his mother.

"Is there anything you want to tell me that made you this confused; that put you in the position of doubting your soon-to-be union with Quinn? Is there," she paused to clear her throat. "Is there anyone that made you feel this way?"

He slowly nodded. "It's Mercedes," he barely whispered, hoping somehow the slight afternoon breeze muffled the words, or the name for that matter. Why was he embarrassed to say he had – still do – feelings for Mercedes? He was afraid once again.

"I thought so too," Mary said after a moment's pause. Indeed, she heard the muffled words. She suspected this situation long before Mary even met Mercedes, back when she started to get small hints about another girl. When she finally came face-to-face with the woman, even hiring her as the party planner/florist for her party, she understood why Sam, or any other man, would fall in love with Mercedes. The woman, in Mary's opinion, was not hard to like. Mercedes was smart, sweet, and successful in what she does; she was also demure, proper and a very respectful person. Surprisingly, she possessed a fighter attitude mixed with her very feminine ways.

"I told Mercedes that I think I love her," Sam suddenly said. It really surprised Mary a great deal. She thought her son was only contemplating on his battling emotions. Sam really did things based on instinct and guts. She should be happy he was trying to take some incentive in dealing with his dilemma. Telling the woman he – thinks- he was falling in love with was really gutsy.

Yet, Mary couldn't help but feel it was wrong. Shouldn't Sam be discussing it with Quinn, perhaps try honesty to the woman and himself for once? "I see," was the thing she could only think of saying despite all questions swarming in her head. "And how did she, Mercedes, react to your proclamation?" she asked, afraid Sam's answer might tarnish her good impression on Mercedes.

Sam looked down on the ground, as if more interested balancing himself on the basketball than answering the query; but he gave way to her mother and answered anyway. "She, in a way, rejected me. Told me to straighten out how I feel before she gives me an answer. I'm not sure what she really wants me to do. I guess, she just wants me to clear my head," …of Quinn, he added to himself.

Mary nodded, hiding a smile. Mercedes just won her full respect. Mary had noticed the girl hold deep, sincere feelings for his son; for Mercedes to 'reject' someone she truly cared for was beyond amazing. She was simply born and bred with golden morals.

"Tell me directly what is it that makes this situation all complicated," the mother stood in front of the son. Mary's face turned completely serious. All she really wanted was to make things easier for her loved ones, especially her two sons.

Sam was hesitant to divulge his worries, fears and doubts to his mother. He had always been a 'mama's boy', yet he was never that generous in sharing his emotions and thoughts to Mary. But the fact he was getting tired of being in the dark these past months, he really needed someone to share his woes. He took a heavy sigh. "When Mercedes questioned me if I will be able to break my engagement to Quinn, I couldn't answer her. I'm not sure what to say. A part of me wanted to immediately call up Quinn and tell her weddings off; but then, another part of me just couldn't. I don't want to betray her," he said.

"Do you still love Quinn?"

"Mom, you know I did – I still do in a way," he responded sincerely.

Mary sighed. If only she could give Sam the right answer to make things easy for him… If only she could find the perfect words to help him ease his troubles… But she could not. She did not know what to say or what advice she could give him. Mary hated the fact she could not help her son in his problem. Sam was on his own this time.

Before she could offer him any kind words, one of the maids came out and approached them.

"What's up?" Sam greeted her.

"Sir, there's a phone call for you from a Mr. Kurt Hummel," she informed him.

'A phone call from Kurt?' Sam questioned internally. He immediately stood up. "I'll take it in the library," he replied while already taking quick, long strides inside the house.

Why would Kurt call him?

He needed to know _fast_.

* * *

**AN**: Short chapter. What did you think?! Any guesses as to why Kurt is randomly calling Sam? Next chapter we catch up with Mercedes. Throw in some long needed MattCedes. Until next time!


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter twenty-three_

_xox_

The sky was blue. Birds were chirping everywhere. Clouds formed different shapes and sizes, simple decorations in the sky. It was simplicity.

Matt stared out the big window in his room. Everything was so silent, so peaceful. Every day he felt weaker and weaker, but his moods were brighter – if only to cheer up the gloomy atmosphere surrounding his sister. He hated seeing Mercedes sad (although she had tried a great deal to appear as cheerful and as joyful as she had always been). It broke his heart.

If only he could make everything all right for Mercedes… If only he could get better so that his sister wouldn't have to worry about him anymore… If only he was not one of the reasons his sister was sad…

He thought about his dream the previous night. He dreamt of his parents, whom he knew based from his sister's stories about them. In his dream though, they were so real, so alive. When his mother kissed him, he felt it. When his father hugged him, he felt it.

"We're becoming a little lazy, huh. Have you done your homework?"

Matt turned around to see his sister leaning against the doorframe. She was wearing her usual smile with a hint of sadness. "You're home early, Mercy."

Mercedes shrugged as she walked closer to Matt who was idly sitting on his favorite chair, the rocking chair of their mother. "I have a headache. I left Blaine in charge, though," she said as she knelt in front of her brother. "Are you feeling alright, Matt? Ms. Emma said you asked to eat your lunch here," a note of worry played on her face. It pained her to see her brother this weak.

"Of course, Mercy!" he beamed, smiling widely. "I just wanted to look out my window and stare at the sky. It makes me think of heaven, and of mom and dad," he told her, his voice a distant away.

Mercedes smiled, this time with full sincerity. Matt had no vivid memories of their parents. His memories were those of Mercedes'. "Me, too," was her only answer as she gazed out the window as well.

"I had a dream last night," Matt said. Mercedes turned to him. "It was about Mom and Dad," he said.

Mercedes' full attention was turned to him. She rarely had dreams about their parents. The last time they visited her in her dreams was when she found out about Matt's leukemia. They appeared, in her mind and heart, to tell Mercedes everything would be just fine; that everything happened for a reason. It calmed Mercedes down. "So, are you gonna tell me or are you gonna keep it a secret?"

Matt nodded. "I'll tell," he said poking his sister on the arm. "I was outside at the garden playing with Raisin. Then, a man appeared. I know he's Dad because he looks like him from the pictures. He gave me a hug, Mercy. It feels real, like he was there. Then, a woman walks to me. I remember saying, 'mommy' then she gave me a kiss."

Mercedes' hand instinctively went to the left side of her chest. There was a knot forming inside her, a mixture of pain and happiness. How she wished to feel her mother's kiss once again. How she wished to be enveloped in her father's arms once more.

"They told me they love me and I told them I love them too. Then, mom said to tell you to always smile because things happen for a reason; and everything will be just fine," he whispered. Mercedes could only nod, reverting her eyes back to the open windows.

There was a moment of silence as the two siblings stared into the sky's blue oblivion.

"Is it okay if I ask you something?" he suddenly asked Mercedes. She nodded. "Well, I really wanted to know about the party you went to with Kurt. You know, the one for Sam's mom? Is it okay if you tell me about it?" he asked slowly, hoping his sister would not get mad.

Mercedes sighed. That was still painful for her, not as much as before though. She had learned to accept Sam could never be hers. At least, she was able to love someone like him. "Well… I think I did a pretty good job with the decorations and the planning. Many guests actually complimented me on it; and I admit I was proud of myself. Mary, Sam's mom, was very beautiful that night. She was wearing such a simple dress yet made her look so elegant. Then, Dwight, Sam's dad, was very tall and a little funny; especially when he tries to say something then his wife would simply cut him off," she gave a small laugh. "Then there was Sam's brother, who looks a little like him, only taller. But unlike Sam, his brother's a little on the creepy side with the way he stares at you," she gave a little shiver to demonstrate her impression on Stevie. Matt giggled a bit.

"That's it? What about Sam?"

"What about him?"

Matt gave him a knowing smile. "You know… tell me about him. What did he wear? Did he say why he never visits anymore? Did you dance with him? Kurt said you two danced once!"

She did not know what to say. "Frankly, bro, I didn't bother to check what he was wearing. He was too busy with his clinging girlfriend. She was like his accessory for the evening," she scoffed out unable to refrain the edge in her tone. Mercedes realized she sounded bitter. She shook her head in defeat. "She was pretty though," she added as if for consolation.

"I bet you're prettier," Matt piped up which prompted a laugh from Mercedes.

She snorted in amusement. "Of course I am! I'm your sister," she joked, winking at her brother. It was moments like this she was at her happiest. Her laugh finally subsided as her mind lingered on the memory of the party, especially when Sam was dancing with his fiancé. It was still painful nonetheless.

"Are you sad, Mercy?" Matt asked full of childish innocence.

Mercedes wondered whether her brother was inquiring in general or in terms of Sam's engagement. Either way, the answer was the same. She reached for Matt's hand and clasped it with her own. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the frail warm fingers of her brother. No words were uttered; but Matt understood the answer. Mercedes didn't have to spell out her loneliness.

"Mercy, I hope you'll be happy. I don't want to see you sad. It makes me sad, too," he said softly. "Promise me, Mercy, that you'll never lose hope in being happy." Mercedes marvelled at his words. It didn't feel like a twelve-year old boy was talking; but Matt had always been like that. He was the matured, wise, innocent boy Mercedes had always loved.

"I promise. As long as you are here with me, I will be happy."

Matt smiled. His eyes brightened up. "Of course, I'll always be with you. Remember? I'm the 'someone' to watch over you!" he exclaimed, although his words came out as a whisper. His voice was a little hoarse. "Mercy, can I please have a glass of water?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Silly boy! Now you make me your servant." She stood up. "Alrighty. One glass of water coming right up, my good master," she gave a salute to him as she readied herself to march downstairs to fetch a glass of water. Matt giggled; but he didn't let go of her hand. He called her name. Mercedes paused. "What now, my good master?"

With yet another sincere smile, Matt whispered but loud enough for Mercedes to hear, "I love you, Mercy."

Mercedes' heart melted on the spot. Such simple words could really do wonders to a person's emotional state. She leaned down and kissed her brother on the cheek. "I love you too, kiddo," she replied, ruffling his hair.

Matt watched his sister leave before returning his gaze back to the window, up to the azure sky. In his mind, he could see both his parents (just like in his dream) smiling at him. He silently prayed for his sister's happiness.

_Matt…_

He heard his mother's melodious voice.

Mom?

_It is time, sweetie. Mommy and Daddy are waiting for you._

What about Mercy?

_Your sister will be fine. You will watch over her as you promised. We will all watch over her._

I am ready, mom, dad!

The ray of sunshine was warm on his skin, like his mother's kiss and his father's embrace. He felt the bones in his body weakening every second; yet deep inside he was as energetic and vibrant as he could ever be.

Matt slowly closed his eyes. He took one final breath

"I love you, Mercy…"

* * *

"Matt, finish up your homework, okay?" Mercedes said as he handed the glass of water. It seemed her little brother had fallen asleep. Mercedes smiled as she observed the peacefulness painted over his face. She leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. He was warm, yet something was different.

She rested her palm on her chest. It was not moving. No breath came out from his nostrils. She fought the tears in her eyes, tried shaking the grave thoughts forming in her mind. "Matt," she gently shook him up… to wake him. Matt did not move. He continued to slumber in his peaceful state. Tears trickled down her face. "Matt? Wake up, kiddo. Matt!" She gathered him in her arms, the glass of water dropping on the floor with its contents oozing out of the glass like the tears in her eyes. "Please…" she mumbled. "Please, wake up," the words barely came out as a whisper.

Mercedes wrapped both her arms around Matt's frail body. Tears flowed unstoppably. She cried silently, rocking her body with Matt in her arms. "Matt…"

_So peaceful._

_So quiet._

_In his sleep, his soul rested._


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter twenty-four_

_xox_

He took a deep breath as he contemplated opening the door. He was aware he still had tears in his eyes. He was never known to cry; he'd rather curse his pains out than let his tears flow; but the tragic news made him forget his masculine ego. He cried a great deal in private.

Sam slowly opened the chapel doors, not knowing what to expect. He was there to lend support, and offer his condolences. Kurt met him by the doorway. Sam offered a hand. "Thanks for the call, man. I really appreciate it," he said softly as he stared at the man he once saw as a rival for a special woman's heart.

Kurt nodded with a small smile. He nudged his head in the direction of a woman in black, sitting at the front pew, staring blankly ahead. "She had been like that ever since. Quiet, unmoving. She doesn't even cry," he told Sam sadly. Kurt cared too much for Mercedes, but this time he felt he was not enough. She needed someone else's shoulder to cry on. "Go to her. Maybe you can get her to eat something, get some sleep, or even say something." Sam nodded. Kurt watched the man his best friend loved so much. He stepped outside to do some reflection.

Mercedes sat there, unfazed by her surroundings. If someone offered his/her condolences, she could only nod and smile sadly. Her tears had dried up. She slowly walked to where Matt was laid in his eternal sleep. She gazed at her brother. His face was peaceful, and almost smiling. She stood there frozen, simply watching Matt. Part of her believed it was only a dream. Soon she'd wake up and see Matt playing with Raisin by the front porch, laughing like any carefree twelve-year old boy would.

Mercedes wanted to cry. The pain inside her was enough for tears to simply flow out but there was none. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, thinking it was either Kurt or Blaine trying to comfort her. She felt the arm draped over her shoulder in a partial hug. She turned around and saw Sam.

"Mercedes…" he tried to say something.

Mercedes looked at him, surprise clouding her thoughts at first. "M-Matt's… he is…" she wanted to say the word loud but she couldn't. Instead, tears poured out from her. She started to cry. Sam enveloped her in his arms.

Mercedes finally let herself break down, crying her heart out. Sam held her tightly as he felt her body quivering from the heartache. He feared if he let go, Mercedes would crumble to pieces.

There were no comforting words to say. There was none. All he could do was lend his shoulder for her to cry on. It took Mercedes awhile to calm down.

* * *

Mercedes tried her very best to refrain herself from another breakdown similar to what happened when Sam first arrived. She must admit releasing those concealed emotions did good for her. She was able to get a few hours' sleep, eat a little something and mumble a few words to visitors.

Sam was also there, day in day out, all throughout the wake until the burial. He even stayed for the night to keep watch with Mercedes. At one time, Mary came by to offer her condolences.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Kurt asked Mercedes. They stayed with Mercedes at her house after the afternoon burial. It was already night but Kurt, Blaine and Sam refused to leave Mercedes alone (even though Emma would be with her).

Mercedes offered a smile to her three friends. "I'll be fine," she tried to reassure them. "Go home and take a rest. Please, do this for me," she pleaded. She was aware of the sacrifices the three had done for her; she was more than grateful for it. But, they also deserved to think about their well-being. Blaine was first to budge.

"Fine. Anyways, I have to open the shop tomorrow. Don't think about coming to work. You rest now," he gave Mercedes a tight hug. "You call me if there's anything you need, okay?"

Mercedes nodded. "Thanks, Blaine. Take care."

"Well, I better go home too. I still have classes tomorrow," Kurt said trying hard to sound cheerful. "Hey. I'm just right across from here. Call me if you need me too."

"Thanks, Kurt. I really do appreciate everything," she told him sincerely and gave him an embrace as well.

Sam held out his hand and the two men shook hands. They greeted each other a goodnight.

"Night, Sam." Blaine waved a hand before hooking his arm on Kurt's. "Take care, Mercedes."

The two disappeared from view. Once her two best friends were gone, Mercedes sat down as all her energy had been drained out. She exerted her last effort when Emma gave her a hug and bid her goodnight as well. Sam was the only one left. He lingered a while.

He walked to where Mercedes sat and knelt in front of her. He fixed his eyes on hers, noting the heavy loneliness her brown eyes conveyed. He took Mercedes' hands. Mercedes squeezed them in return. Once again, tears started to fall from her eyes. She let them drenched her face, and she was glad Sam did not even attempt to stop her. She needed to let loose the painful emotions building inside her. "I'm okay now," she said when she finally calmed down. "I'm okay," she assured him. "You should go home and rest as well."

Sam hesitated to let go. It felt like he needed her more than she needed him. "Are you sure… I can stay?"

Mercedes smiled at him. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Sam stood up, bringing Mercedes with him. "Promise you'll also call me if something comes up?"

She nodded slowly. "Thank you so much, Sam. You'd never know how much your presence here meant to me," she whispered. Sam applied a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, Mercedes," he said, making his way towards the front door.

Once Mercedes lost the warmth of his fingertips from her hands, Mercedes felt hollow, as if she had just lost her pillar of support.

She slowly made her way upstairs, her feet leading her to her brother's room. Emptiness filled her. It was the first time the biting realization dawned on her: Matt's gone. Raisin met her and gave a small mew, knowing her master and friend had already joined his creator. Mercedes bent down and caressed Raisin's fur. The kitten gave her a sad look. Mercedes stood up and walked towards the big windows. She opened them, exposing herself to the cool night breeze. Her gaze traveled to the pale moonlight. Her gaze fell on the small table right beside the window, where a solo picture of a smiling Matt was placed. Mercedes took it and stared at it. Her fingertips traced the image of her brother. Her heart folded in ache, knowing she would never again feel his warm skin and gaze into his innocent brown eyes.

Mercedes collapsed onto the rocking chair placed right in front of the window. "T-there's somebody, I'm longing t-to see. I hope that he, turns out to be," Mercedes sang despite the forming of a lump inside her throat "Some…one to watch… over… me."

She hugged the picture frame, submitting herself to her emotions and tears. Soon, sleep dawned on her. The thought that Matt from somewhere up there was watching over her provided her a solitary feeling inside. Mercedes knew she would be all right at the end of it all.

The road may seem broken but it did not mean there was another way to take where happiness stood waiting. She would just have to find the right road.

* * *

Sam slowly got in his car, unwilling to just leave Mercedes on her own. He knew she was a strong woman, but even individuals such as her needed someone to lean on at times like this. He started the engine of his car then his eyes caught a silhouette opening the big windows from upstairs of Mercedes's house. He knew the room belonged to Matt.

_Mercedes was in her brother's room_.

He turned off the engine. He just couldn't leave her alone like that. Sam opened his car window. He would stay, he decided. Mercedes didn't have to know. He would just stay inside his vehicle to simply watch over her. It was the least he could do for her.

And Sam watched over Mercedes for consecutive nights without her knowledge. He'd come by late at night, sleep in his car and leave very early in the morning. It gave him comfort, in a way, to do such a philanthropic act. He never knew he was capable to do such things. He did it, not for recognition or compliment. He did it because he wanted to be there for Mercedes (literally) even if she didn't know it.

Watching over her was something Sam found solace in.


	25. Chapter 25

_Chapter twenty-five_

_xox_

Emma opened the door, a smile appeared on her face as she gazed into the sincere green eyes of the young man standing outside the house. The concern written all over his face was enough for Emma to know this young man hold a feeling more than friendship for Mercedes. She could only hope this young man would help the dear child find the right road to take to attain happiness (especially now that her brother had passed away).

"Ah, nice to see you, Sam. Come in, child," she opened the door widely, welcoming the visitor. She was itching to tell the young man her awareness of his 'nightly' visits to Mercedes' house, where he spent his evening sleeping in his car and waking up early next day to leave as if he never even came. Emma had caught him once, asleep in his car, at the break of dawn. At first she was troubled and curious as to why he was even there. Instead of confronting him, Emma resorted to observation. She had observed Sam arriving late at night, simply staying inside his car; and there he would fall asleep. She had no idea what his purpose was; but the consistency of it gave her an idea Sam wanted to be there for Mercedes (without the young woman's knowledge).

Sam wrinkled his brows. The older woman was eyeing him strangely, as if she wanted to question him for something. He shook the thought off. It took him about one month to actually visit Mercedes. (His every-now-and-then visits at night do not count.)

"I'm glad you showed up, Sam," Emma said. "Mercedes has been shying away from everybody. She rarely eats and talks. She even refuses to see Kurt and she simply stays inside Matt's room. Good thing I managed to get her out today. She's in the garden. Go talk to her," Emma slightly pushed Sam towards the garden.

Sam was taken aback. He hardly ever said a word. "Uh, thanks, I guess," he said when Emma nodded her head and left. Sam stepped out of the living room sliding doors where it led to the almost bare garden. He quickly noted to himself that for a garden owned by a florist, it looked certainly blank. Hardly any plant of some kind was found; only wild flowers and unwanted weeds grew to the untended soil.

In the center of the garden, where a stone bench was placed, sat a figure of a lonely woman. An aura of sorrow surrounded her. Sam did not even bother to walk quietly. He intended for Mercedes to sense his presence yet the lady stayed still, as if she was cut off from the world.

"Mercedes," Sam called as he neared her.

It took her some moments before she turned to look at him. She tried to give him a smile but failed. It was fast approaching a complete month without Matt in her life. It was more than she could take. Sam took a seat beside her.

"How are you?" he asked softly.

Mercedes sighed heavily. "I'm still breathing." Her answer came out as a downhearted whisper.

Sam expelled a breath. This was not his Mercedes he was used to, yet he didn't know how to respond to it. He understood her despondent attitude. He understood the hopelessness in her tone. She missed Matt a great deal, but it was downright wrong to continue living in misery. "How do you think Matt would deal with that kind of response from you? You think he'd be happy his sister lost all hope in life?" he said, his voice a little hard and harsh. It pained him to see her like that.

Mercedes turned to him and gave him a sharp look. "I wouldn't know now, would I? Matt is already de-," Sam cupped her mouth to muffle her word.

"He is resting in peace," he supplied the word. "Look Mercedes. I don't know the extent of your pains. I did not lose a brother I love so well," he said, furrowing his brows at his own statement. It made his subconscious think about the irony of the statement, especially in dealing with his relationship with his own brother. "In fact, no matter how I hate my brother, I don't want to experience that kind of tragedy. But we don't have to treat this as a tragedy, though. We can look at it in a spiritual perspective. Matt's now at rest, probably playing happily somewhere in paradise at the moment," he said soothingly to her.

Tears started streaming down her face. She was silent; either she was contemplating what Sam had just said, or she simply tuned him out. Then, she spoke with a voice full of regret. "I prayed so hard everyday to Him not to give me a reason to lose my faith. He took away my parents, and now He took away the only family I've left. Why is… is… God so cruel?" she asked, her eyes straining upwards to the sky, directing her question to a spiritual entity to the heavens above.

Sam squatted in front of her, so he was face-to-face with Mercedes. He took her hands and cupped them in his. "I am no preacher, Mercedes. But this I know, perhaps this was all meant for you… like a grander plan or something. I don't know. But you have to let go. You have to move on with your life, as your parents and Matt would want you to."

Mercedes broke down. "It's hard, Sam. Every day I ask myself where have I gone wrong? Was the love I gave my brother not enough for him to stay with me until our old age? Was my faith not strong enough for Him to answer my prayers? Have I been such a bad person to deserve such tragedies in life?"

"If you think that way, then your brother's death would simply be a tragedy. We'll never know our purpose in life; and there are no solutions in figuring it out," he gazed down on the ground, hands still clasping Mercedes'. "Matt's soul is at peace now, Mercedes. The mourning should stop; but celebrating the way he lived his life should be continued. That's the only way you can move on." Sam stood up, pulling Mercedes with him. He cupped her chin, his left hand wiping the flowing tears from her eyes. "Cry, Mercedes. Cry out all your pains, anger and regrets." He let Mercedes cry on his shoulder (well, more like on his shirt as tears drenched the fabric). When he felt she had calmed down a bit, he pulled back and stared deep into her mahogany eyes.

"Now, you should smile. Smile, so that Matt will also smile for you." He brought his lips to her forehead.

In almost one month, Mercedes finally smiled a sincere smile. It still hurt. She was still heartbroken. She was still questioning. But at least, she smiled.

And Sam was there to celebrate that moment when her inner peace was returning.

* * *

Eyes flickered open to be met with a roomful of sunshine. It was the nearest thing to heaven. A sudden lightness was inside her chest. Sorrow finally dissipated. It was almost paradise.

Mercedes sat upright on the bed, Matt's bed. For the past month, she had tried to cling onto his presence. It had been painful. But, Mercedes awoke for the first time with a clear head. The sorrow and pain was still apparent, but the mourning was slowly passing.

As Sam had said the previous day, Matt was already at peace. Mercedes' heart would soon attain that same peace.

She walked up to the windows and opened them widely, letting the cool breeze of the morning caress her cheeks. It was a bright new world as she stared up to the bluest sky, Matt's favorite scenery to watch.

Matt. How she missed him so. But last night, he came to her in her dreams. He visited Mercedes for the first time in a month. He smiled to her his usual boyish and innocent smile.

Mercy, smile for me, he had said. The look in his eyes pleaded for Mercedes not to lose hope. He begged Mercedes to continue living. At the end of it all, in between consciousness and dream state, he felt a sweet kiss on her lips. Matt finally said his last goodbye. Two figures appeared by his side. Mercedes knew she was crying tears of joy and sadness at the same time. As Matt started walking away, he turned and made a promise he made a long time ago. I will watch over you for always, _Mercy_, he called out to her.

Matt's image faded, both hands held by their mother and father.

Mercedes wiped a lone tear trickling down her cheek. It will be the last time she would cry tears of sorrow.

Mercedes, after doing her morning ritual, made her way downstairs and greeted a lively 'good morning' to Emma, much to the surprise yet relief of the older woman. Mercedes hugged her tightly. "Is breakfast ready, Ms. Emma?" she asked in her old cheery tone.

Emma gave a hearty laugh. "Well, of course. Go child and eat all you want," she ushered Mercedes to the kitchen who allowed herself to be served. Her plate was full but she devoured everything on it.

As she made her way to work, riding her bicycle, Mercedes let the wind flutter her hair. She felt free (not from the burden of taking care of a brother)… free from anger towards the Almighty. She was free from an unending sorrow. She was free from a hopeless self. A huge smile was plastered on her face as she entered her humble flower shop. Blaine gave a gasp of surprise before leaping from where he sat and attacked Mercedes with a big hug. Mercedes laughed at her friend's enthusiasm.

"W-why are you here?" Blaine backed away and pointed a finger at his friend. He analyzed the expression on Mercedes' face. Happiness? Last time he checked she was all depressed and isolated herself from the world about three days ago. Something, or someone, had managed to get through her. "What did Kurt say that made you come out of the house?"

Mercedes smiled. "Oh, Kurt said a lot of things, I assure you. But, it was somebody else who made me see the light at the end of the tunnel," she sighed.

"Hmm… I'm not even gonna guess who it is," Blaine rolled her eyes. "Well, as much as I enjoyed being my own boss and doing the flower arrangements myself, I'm delighted you're back. Plus, you're looking fabulous today. Your cheeks are so rosy and your smile is so big. I'm happy for you," he hugged Mercedes once more.

"I'm happy too, Blaine," was all the response she could give, but the sincerity in her words were apparent.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter twenty-six_

_xox_

Puddles of water formed on the floor from the dripping raincoat. Just beside it, an equally drenched umbrella was just hanged. Mercedes shook off any droplets of rainwater from her hair. Despite the gloomy weather outside, she had a smile on her face.

She was starting to find her way to move on in life.

"Hey Blaine. Sorry I'm late. The weather was just nasty outside" Mercedes greeted her friend who had a scowl on his face.

"Don't tell me you rode your bike in this weather?"

"Then I'm not gonna tell you I rode my bike in this weather."

Blaine approached his employer/friend. He placed both hands on her cheeks. "Mercedes, I know you're sad nowadays. But, please, don't commit suicide."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "You're being over dramatic. When I left the house, there were only drizzles. It got worst on my way here. By that time, it was too late to take the bus or call a cab. Anyway, I left prepared," she pointed to the dripping raincoat and umbrella. "But, tell me, why do I sense you're not in a good mood."

Blaine stepped away and proceeded to the reception table. He took a heavy sigh, as if the information he was about to divulge to Mercedes was between life and death. "I think you should sit down before I tell you what happened," he said, the seriousness in his tone was thick as gravy.

Mercedes was used to Blaine's dramatic ways. She grabbed the nearest stool and sat down. "Alright, I'm listening."

"A woman," he started in a tone as if he was in front of a large crowd saying a monologue. "Stopped by here earlier this morning."

Mercedes nodded. "_Ookie…_That is a very serious matter," she indicated half-mocking, half-amused.

Blaine glared at her. "No interruptions. I'm not yet done," he pointed a finger at her. "Just shut up and listen. _Anywaysss_! This woman wanted our services for a very important event. I'm talking about dozens of flowers, tons of arrangements, some party planning on the side. In short, big money for our business!"

Mercedes smiled. "Then that's good news!" she clapped her hands and her voice were all cheery. We've been very fortunate this time of year to get big clients. Our business is blooming, Blaine," she exclaimed in a delightful tone. True, her little flower shop had never had this much orders and clients in two years. Despite recent some recent tragedies, there was still something good happening in her life. The expression on Blaine's face didn't share the same happy feeling Mercedes had. There was still something amiss. "Something wrong now, Blaine?"

Blaine looked away from those prying eyes. "I didn't accept it; but that's because I'm in no position to decide. It's really yours to say yes, I told the woman."

Mercedes nodded, already understanding Blaine's melancholy countenance. "If you're worried about that, don't bother. You think this woman would come back?"

Blaine motioned his head in affirmative. "She will. I'm just not sure you should accept it," he finally voiced his opinion.

Mercedes face-faulted. "B-but… why?"

Blaine scratched his head, not sure whether to tell his friend or not. "Here, look at this. It's where I've written all the information this woman told me, including her name," he handed Mercedes a piece of paper.

Mercedes took it and read its contents carefully. She even read it twice, thrice, just to make sure. She gave Blaine a reassuring smile. "Then, I think we should really call her to make sure she still wants to hire us, eh? I mean, who would refuse such an offer? We're gonna be part of something very special, eh, Blaine?"

The effeminate man studied her closely. She sounded sincere, but Mercedes had the talent to hide her pains. "Are… you sure you want… to, you know, do it?" he asked carefully.

A bright smile lightened up the face of the young woman who had endured so much. "Of course, Blaine. I'll do it. Not for the money, but for my _friend_," she answered sincerely.

It was time she repaid all the things her friend had done for her, even if it meant a part of her will break during the process.

* * *

"Are you even listening to what I've just said?"

He turned to her, eyelids drooping, thoughts clouded. "Huh?"

Annoyed, she clenched her fists to control her surging temper. Why must he always make things so complicated? "I've been talking here for minutes that seem like hours and you didn't even hear a word I just said? Unbelievable!"

Once again, he snapped back to reality. "Huh?"

There were times she simply wanted to scream her frustrations out. She wanted to hit the man standing by the window, watching the heavy drops of rain fall down on the hard ground some eleven floors below him. Instead, she looked around his apartment, trying to find something to calm her down. "Would you please just concentrate for once?" she asked, her voice almost pleading.

He turned away from the window then gave a slight nod. "I'm all ears now."

"No, I don't need you to hear. I need you to listen." She stood up and walked to where he stood. She hooked an arm to his and led him away from the distractions of the scene outside the window. "Sit," she ordered in a stern voice as she pointed to the couch.

Sam abided. He scratched his head, hiding the restlessness forming inside him. The weather outside was no help either to lighten his mood. It only got worse when Quinn decided to show up and discuss so many things that needed his attention. Right now, with the heavy rainfall and slight darkness, all he wanted was to sleep. He didn't need Quinn ordering him around at the moment. "I'm listening," he said in a dejected voice.

Quinn scowled but nodded sharply. "Good. I'm not the only one getting married here, just so you know. Paying attention is the least you can do," she preached, her tone though slowly turning soft. "Now, as I've told you, my mom is friends with the owner of the Centennial Inn. It's not a five-star hotel, but it's not cheap either. It's about two hours from here, so I think it's the best one. Anyway, mom was able to book it for our wedding date. So, wedding venue and reception are already fixed," she informed him.

Sam blinked. Wedding venue and reception were already decided without his knowledge? Oh well, not like he made an effort to participate actively in planning this wedding. "Okay," was all he could say.

"We're scheduled to taste different types of dish and wines next week for us to decide what to serve for the reception. Got that?" Sam dumbly nodded. "Just make sure you won't spend all your time at a friend's brother's funeral, okay?"

He tried hard to restrain himself from snapping at his fiancée, although Quinn had every right to comment on such things. She only learned of Sam's supposed 'absences' the previous month because he was lending his support for a friend whose brother had died. For that, Quinn had the right for some sarcasm. Sam remained timid.

"Also, we haven't talked about who your best man is going to be. I highly doubt you'd like Stevie to stand beside you at the altar."

Sam shrugged. "I haven't thought about it yet. Stevie's not a bad idea if we ran out of people to include," he said with a snort. Even if he wanted Stevie to be his best man (which will never happen), Sam doubted his brother would even agree. Not because Stevie despised him, but Sam knew he liked Quinn as much as he liked bathing in mud.

"Alright, that's not our primary concern at the moment. Except, we have to know soon if we wanted the invitations sent out as soon as possible," she paced back and forth the living room, racking her brains of the things she had said earlier that just went past through Sam's ears. "Hmm, what else?" she tapped her chin. If only Sam had the mind to listen, she wouldn't have to repeat everything else. "Have you had the tux-fitting session?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So, that's out of the way until the second fitting, which is in two weeks, I hope." Quinn folded her arms. She knew she was missing something very important. It took her about ten minutes to remember, by that time, Sam was already sprawled on the couch, entering the first stage of sleep. "Sam!" she called to him. He immediately sat up.

"I'm listening!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you this morning I stopped by at the shop of your mom's party planner. She wasn't there but one of her employees booked me – us, I mean, an appointment with her tomorrow to discuss certain things. I was really impressed by her so I decided to employ her services," she filled him in as she slowly remembered the thing she wanted to tell Sam. He only nodded.

Sam really could do nothing. In a way, he was just a bystander at his own wedding. Perhaps it was for the best. He had no idea what to do if ever he decided to be active in the preparation. Then a realization dawned on him. "Mom's party planner? Who… are you talking about?" Oh god, please no! Quinn couldn't have possibly asked for _her _services?

_"I think, if I'm not mistaken, her name's __Alexis__…__Portia__? No, wait. It's Mercedes Jones."_

_Who else_? Sam mentally slapped his forehead. This felt like a scene from some chick flick he had seen (because Quinn dragged him by force!) years ago, about the groom-to-be in love with the wedding planner. Would he like it to end the same way as the movie did?

"Your mom told me she's a good party planner as well as a florist. She'll be able to choose the right kind of flowers I want. Also, if I'm not mistaken, she was also the florist at Rachel's wedding we attended months ago. The thing I'm concerned about was would she be able to handle everything or should I employ a certified wedding planner while Ms. Jones could assist. What do you think?"

She wanted his opinion? "No," he answered without faltering.

"No to what?"

Sam stood up and once again walked to the windows. The rain didn't even recede; it only got stronger minute by minute. A severe thunderstorm warning wasn't issued for no reason; yet Sam felt what he was about to say to Quinn was more terrible than a storm. What kind of disaster it would be was something Sam wasn't looking forward to, yet he had no choice. He had to say it to Quinn.

"No… to everything," he answered.

The loud thunder echoed all throughout as the dark, grey sky poured out heavy tears of rain. Emotions ran high as one man contemplated on being honest for the first time in his life. Green eyes quivered with every deafening drops of water from the sky.

_You're given a second chance. Use it wisely._

Indeed, he would.

* * *

**AN**: Things are starting to take a turn. And it only took 26 chapters. Thank you all for the reviews and stuff I love reading what you guys think =p Next chapter wont take as long now that I've gotten my mojo back!


	27. Chapter 27

_Chapter twenty-seven_

_xox_

Silence. It was the most deafening sound in his opinion. He rather preferred anger to be yelled. He preferred rage to be in action, rather than a passive reaction. He hated it when people keep silent. Perhaps it was the reason he disliked his brother so much. Stevie was too silent for his liking.

Silence. That was what Quinn was giving him; and it was driving him mad insane. Why wouldn't she slap him? Why wouldn't she spit curses at him, at least give him what he truly deserved? But no… Quinn stayed silent after hearing the entire truth from him. She stood there, unmoving, silent tears flowing down her cheeks with part of her hair shading her lonely face.

Silence.

"Will ya say something?" Sam demanded. He hated the fact guilt was eating the very life of him at the moment.

Quinn heaved a deep breath. She was tired from it all. Ever since her relationship with Sam started, it had been as steady as a car on edge of a cliff. Quinn sat down on the sofa, feeling the heavy burden of her fiancé's revelation. "What do you want to hear me say, Sam?" she asked, refusing to look at him. She knew the moment she stared into those green eyes, she would just break down into pieces. She still loved him despite of it all.

"Anything, Quinn. Why don't you yell at me? Hit me, curse me. Anything…"

Quinn shook her head. "It doesn't matter. In the end, I'm still the one hurting and you're the one feeling all the guilt."

And then, silence once more.

Sam walked to where she sat. He knelt in front of her. He brushed the hair from her face. "I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely. He truly was sorry.

"Where have I gone wrong, Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "I couldn't help how I feel, Quinn. Mercedes… she was… she captured my heart," he admitted. No sense in denying and lying of how he truly felt.

Quinn finally looked directly at his face. "W-when did you fell in love with… her?" she asked, stammering.

"A long time ago. When," Sam closed his eyes. "She was the first person I saw when I woke up from my coma," he answered, thinking back at the time when he realized why Mercedes had seemed so familiar. He had asked Mercedes about it a couple of times. She always refused to answer. He didn't press on the question any longer. He already knew where, when and how. In his heart, it was Mercedes' voice that helped him find his way back to consciousness.

"So this is it? It ends all here?"

Sam took her hand. "For once I'm doing what I think is only fair to you and me. Tell me, Quinn. Do you want to continue on pretending we are the happy couple people always perceived us to be? You know in your heart we are not that. Every single second we are around each other we tend to find something to fight about. We argue. I curse. You pout. Don't you get tired of that? Don't you want someone who will appreciate everything you do for them without being insulting and sarcastic?"

Quinn wiped a tear from her eyes. "You credit yourself too much for the failure of this relationship," she half-joked. She placed both palms on Sam's cheeks. "Before we end all things between the two of us, I want to have peace of mind. Please answer everything I ask with sincerity," she requested. When he nodded, she proceeded. "How do you know this Mercedes is the woman you truly love? How do you know she's the one, and not me, or Santana?"

Sam stood up. He had just noticed Mother Nature had finally calmed down. The rain had receded. Yet the whole time both he and Quinn were as silent as a mouse, Sam hardly heard the fading pitter-patter sound from the outside. Silence was truly loud.

He turned to Quinn and contemplated on the answer she was seeking. Granted, his answer might not be the one she wanted to hear. Either way, she asked for him to be sincere and honest. "Because with Mercedes, I'm a different person. The kind I hide from people. The kind those who knew me wouldn't expect me to be, but were aware it's a part of my layer. Do you get what I mean?"

"With Mercedes, you can be your true self," Quinn paraphrased it for him, much to the pain developing inside her. The Sam she fell in love with and had known was the loud, conceited, bratty type. She was aware that the Sam Santana had loved was the passive, dramatic and matured type. With Mercedes, was he all those in one?

Quinn stood up, her shoulders were hunched from the heavy feeling inside, eating her raw. Her tears had dried up. It was all over. At the end of it all, she lost the one person she thought would give her the ultimate happiness. Perhaps it was wrong of her to have expected too much from Love, from Sam, and from herself. She gazed at Sam whose back was turned. The end. Over. Finish. Done. Such simple words yet shattering her heart into tiny pieces. She heaved a heavy sigh_. 'At least the rain has stopped'_, she thought crudely. That was one positive thing.

"Well Sam, I think it's high-time for me to say my goodbye. You're aware that after this we'll never see each other. In fact, I don't believe in friendship after love," she said with a voice as cheerful as a fake cheerful voice could be.

Sam faced her and walked towards her. "I know, Quinn," he said, reaching for her hand.

Quinn stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips – their final kiss. "We had some good times, didn't we?" She touched his cheek for the last time. She pulled away from him and grabbed her bag. Soon, she would be in the safety of her car where she could cry her eyes out, regret the regrettable, contemplate the impossible. But before she finally leaves him be she had some last words that needed to be said. "Just so you know Sam, this is probably the most painful thing you did to me. Yet, I still love you with all my heart." With that, she closed the door and walked out of his life. Whatever happens, she could only hope destiny wouldn't be cruel enough to make their paths cross again; because if they do, it would only break a broken heart.

Sam watched her leave. The guilt, although painful to be subjected to, was bearable. He knew he was a cruel man to do such a lowly thing to a sweet girl like Quinn. But, even a cruel man deserved to correct things right for himself, and perhaps to others along the way.

And the truth was, he felt he deserved to be happy too. His happiness involved a woman named Mercedes; and although there is no guarantee she loves him as more than a friend, he was willing to risk it. God had been good to grant him another chance in life. Maybe, just maybe, God would be willing to grant him the chance to be with Mercedes.


	28. Chapter 28

_Chapter twenty-eight_

_xox_

There was something phenomenal in turning on the radio and the DJ playing the song of your life. Literally! Each word, each tune, each melody floated around, piercing the mind and making you think.

Sam listened to the song with all attentiveness he could muster. The singer was completely humming the tune of his life. '_I'm so tired of lying about it...' _Those were his words to Quinn the day before. He just couldn't continue with all the lies and pretense. He was also hurting inside. '_I'm not… bulletproof.' _Yes, exactly. He wasn't bullet-proof. Behind the arrogant and obnoxious facade lived a most sensitive man who was capable of loving, who was hoping for a life of comfort in the arms of the woman he truly loved._ 'No, and I'm not going to lie about it. I'm not bulletproof.' _As the song faded, the sadness was gone.

A smile crept to his face. He was a new man. He would go to Mercedes, confess to her his love (once more), but this time he has answers to her questions. This was a gamble he was willing to risk. If she told him her heart never longed for him, he would be devastated; but at least he was able to tell the whole truth.

But before doing all those bits and pieces, there was something important he had to do first. There was a task to be followed. A task to be done. A duty to be fulfilled. Someone to be thanked.

He stirred the car to the path that would lead him to a better life.

* * *

She stared at the many faces in front of her, some leaving, some just arriving. She wondered about the different life stories of each of them. Could the woman on her phone have just been engaged to her boyfriend of four years? If that were the case, it would explain her outburst of energy.

She turned her attention on an elderly man with unsmiling eyes. Could he have just lost a wife of twenty years? Could that woman with a big frown on her face have just had a big fight with her husband the morning before work? Did that high school student just ace a math exam?

The bus ride made Mercedes think. She was not the only person with a tragic story. She was not the only person with a big gap in her life at the moment. Many riding the bus at the moment shared a similar dramatic fate. Some of them perceived the glass half empty; some perceived the glass half full. Mercedes simply saw the glass needed refilling.

She smiled (albeit trying to hide it or else the passengers might think her crazy).

Taking the bus was not such a bad idea after all.

A feeling of satisfaction surrounded her as she simply savored the journey towards a new life.

* * *

He was never a religious man. Faith was something spoon-fed to him by his parents when he was still a young boy. Towards attaining independence, he did not need feeding. He can choose what to intake; and he chose to leave his faith behind.

Now, there he was, walking down the stone aisle of the garden church, ready to submit himself to his faith once more.

In his mind, he owed that much to the Almighty. He was still alive and complete after a near-death experience. He had been given a second chance he almost wasted, yet things still resulted in a satisfactory manner. Now, here he was, ready to make a new man out of his old arrogant, brusque self.

Going to church at odd hours was never really in her agenda. Yes, she was quite a religious woman, submitting her whole life to the Lord for the sake of her brother's cure. Yet, the Lord did not answer her prayer. For a brief moment, she lost her faith.

She was now trudging new paths towards rededicating herself to her faith once more. It was hard, often she questioned why she can never achieve simple happiness. Was it too much to ask to have her parents witness her growth into a woman? Was it too much for Matt to be alive?

Tears streamed down her face as she took a seat on the marbled pew facing the altar. Somewhere down the road, God's plan for her would surface; and perhaps she would attain the near-ultimate happiness she longed for in life. Mercedes simply stared at the Holy Cross. Her quiet reflection was a solitary prayer.

There she was. Sitting timidly, her back turned to him. Of all the strangest, yet most fitting places to find her. He did not expect to see her there. It was still midday Wednesday. People hardly came by to church during those hours. Could that be a sign from the heavens above? To think he went there to contemplate about his recent decisions, then to find her… He just could not believe.

Slowly, and really silently, Sam made his way where Mercedes was sitting. She looked as radiant as ever. The cool breeze kept blowing her long, raven hair all over. Her skin glowed like a ray of sunshine. Sam rarely let the poet in him emerge.

"Nothing like a quiet reflection."

Mercedes quickly turned to her side, where she thought she imagines Sam's voice. Her vision was a little blurry from the tears shed. He looked so real… but what are the probabilities Sam is actually right there beside him? Mercedes shook her head. Was she imagining him there?

Sam chuckled. "You're probably asking why I'm here, huh?"

Mercedes dumbly nodded. She was still a little confused as to whether the man beside her was an illusion. Wow, was she going crazy? First, she hopped on a bus, during her lunch break, to go to church. Then, while sitting on the bus, she reflected on the passengers' life stories, reminding herself she was not the only individual on Earth with a tragic chapter in her book of life. Now, in the middle of praying, she imagined Sam, the man she loved and still loved, sitting beside her, simply making small talk.

Yet he looked so real…

"Mercedes?" Sam waved a hand in front of her, trying to bring her back to reality. "You're spacing out, you know."

Mercedes blinked. "W-what are you doing here?"

Sam once again chuckled. "You won't believe me if I were to say I'm here to pray."

Mercedes was itching to bring a finger to touch his cheek, or whatever, just to make sure he was real. "Oh," was all she could say. Did she expect he was there looking for her? But how would he know she was there? She did not tell Blaine or anyone her unplanned trip to the garden church.

"Sorry. Am I bothering ya?"

Mercedes shook her head. The two of them sat in silence for a while. They watched carefully when a lady in her early fifties came up to put some fresh flowers on the grotto. A number of people had come to say a little prayer. Yet, in less than fifteen minutes, Mercedes and Sam were alone in the garden, continuously staring at the altar in silence.

Sam decided to break the quietude that formed between them. He hated silence. Maybe that was why he and Santana never worked out. Santana exuded a sense of calmness and tranquility. Sam possessed none of them.

"I'm getting married," he suddenly said.

"I know," Mercedes replied automatically. She hoped she did not sound bitter.

"I don't like big weddings. I prefer the small, intimate ones. I think those kinds are the most sincere, the vows spoken are for the couple alone."

Mercedes stared at her hands placed on her lap. "I agree."

"Also, the only guests that should be invited are the ones really close to you, the people you truly want to share the event with."

Mercedes frowned. Why was he telling all these wedding matters to her? Was he purposely trying to hurt her? Once he confessed to her he loved her; she did not give her answer right away. He was engaged to be married to another woman. His hesitation to answer directly made it clear to Mercedes of Sam's real feelings. He was having wedding jitters. She did not want to be his scapegoat while he sorts his feelings. Yes, she loved him so, still does love him, but she was not willing to sacrifice morality over pleasure.

Mercedes felt her eyes sting. She could not possibly start crying in front of him! She turned her face away from him. She knew she has to leave, but a part of her wants to stay to treasure one last moment with the man she would always love.

So, she stayed no matter how much it hurt.

"What about you Mercedes?"

"Huh? What about me?"

There was a glint in his eyes. "How would you like your own wedding to unfold?"

Mercedes sighed. "I never thought about it," she answered half-heartedly.

"Then that's a problem…" Sam took her hand, while his other hand guided Mercedes' face to face him. "I'd like to get married to ya as soon as possible. Better think about how you'd like to plan the event sooner," he winked at her.

It took her a while to register those statements. What did Sam just say? Get married to her? As soon as possible? She must be imagining things again, almost hallucinating. "W-w-what?" she croaked.

Sam mentally laughed at himself in amusement. That was the worst proposal. His first proposal -to Santana- was well planned. He organized a trip out-of-town, at a luxurious ski-lodge up North. The proposal came under the moonlight up at the slopes. It was cold. Winter. White. Pure. But their love ended as soon as it began.

His proposal to Quinn took a span of one month. He proposed after thinking about it for days and nights. It was under pressure. His family and friends expected it. Quinn expected. He relented. They were at a country beach, under the blazing heat of the sun. Summer. Hot. Fiery.

Now, he found the woman he truly, sincerely, purely loved; and he proposed out of instincts. He proposed because he did not think about it, or contemplated about it. He proposed what his mind, and heart, said. He proposed under a cloudless, greyish blue sky.

They met in Spring, when the flowers started to bloom. Not so cold, not so hot.

Now he proposed under the magnificent Autumn sun, when trees are blessed with vibrant coloured leaves. He proposed because he wanted to. He proposed because he desired to spend the rest of his 'second' life with the woman he loved.

Santana was his winter. Quinn was the summer. Mercedes was and would always be his two seasons: his spring and autumn.

"You're probably thinking I'm being brash in asking you this, but this is who I really am, Mercedes. I run my life instantaneously. I don't plan. It's all out of instincts. But for once, I'm sure this brash decision will be worth it, because I love you so much." Sam stood from his seat, then knelt down in front of Mercedes. "Will you please be very kind in spending the rest of your life with me, Mercedes? Will you accept me now even if I don't have a ring to offer you? Will you be my wife sooner rather than later?"

Tears finally made their way out of Mercedes' eyes. It streamed down her flushed cheeks. Was Sam really proposing to her in front of the altar? Mercedes brought her two hands to frame Sam's face. Trust, she was willing to put trust in what he just said. He loved her. That was all that matters.

She kissed him on the forehead: a kiss of gentleness.

She kissed him on the tip of his nose: a kiss of delight.

She kissed him on his two cheeks: a kiss full of care.

She kissed him on the lips: a kiss of eternity.

Mercedes cradles his head as she let him kiss her passionately. She surrendered in him with all her inexperience in intimacy. She did the best she could. "Yes," she finally murmured.

Sam felt his heart swelled. He heard those answer twice, but the third one was the best. He jumped from his kneeling position and placed both his hands on Mercedes' waist. With all the strength he had, he lifted her up then enveloped her in a tight embrace. Mercedes nearly squealed, if not for being reminded they were still at church.

Sam set her down finally. "So… shall we go?" He offered her a hand.

Mercedes took it but gave him a soft laugh. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever this road takes us," he shrugged. "Don't worry. It's blessed. We'll be all right," he answered in a cheery tone, a tone he rarely used. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose before placing his lips on her soft ones.


	29. Chapter 29

_Chapter twenty-nine_

_xox_

Life is an ongoing journey, hard to plan, hard to devise. Most of the times, failure seems to win over success, war over peace, hatred over love. Sometimes, it takes a broken road to lead us to where our destination lies. At the end of a broken path, one person stands, waiting patiently for you, ready to give their entire existence… only for you.

She sat alone beside the simple yet peaceful resting place of her brother. A teardrop trickled down her cheek. She missed her brother, and would always miss him. Though she had moved on, once in a while she would let her emotions get the better of her.

A smile then appeared on her face, as another memory came alive in her vision.

A walk down the aisle,

A vision of white.

The sweetest smile shines bright,

A gaze at those golden eyes like sunrise

A concept of joy.

She walks in tune to the beat of the song.

He stands there waiting to the beat of his heart.

Forever they will make a vow,

Eternal they will make a promise.

They find peace in each other's arms.

They find love in each other's eyes.

The road once broken,

Now is blessed,

And all is mended.

Mercedes wiped her cheek, smiling brightly. "It was perfect, Matt. Just perfect. I know you were there in spirit. I look forward to the time we meet again."

Mercedes carefully rearranged the bouquet of flowers she laid on top of Matt's resting place. "Sleep peacefully, my brother," she whispers as she gathered herself up.

Someone was waiting for her. "Shall we?"

"Yes," she answered as she took the extended hand in front of her.

This certainly would be a new beginning she was looking forward to and a new road to travel upon. Somehow, Mercedes knew whatever path she takes, whatever obstacles she'll face, she can survive.

An overwhelming happiness surged through her heart. Mercedes could truly say she was and will always be sincerely happy.

* * *

**AN**: _Finally got around to this mini chapter. It's quite short but there's a reason for it. The next chapter will sadly be the last. I hope you guys like this one in the mean time! Let me know what you think._


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